CIHM 
Microfiche 


(l\/lonographs) 


ICI\/IH 

Collection  de 
microfiches 
(monographies) 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  canadien  de  microreproductions  historiques 


i  QOA 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes  /  Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


istoriques 


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0 
D 
D 

n 


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□  Caption  of  issue/ 
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vraison 


D 


Masthead/ 

Generique  (periodiques)  de  la  livraison 


ly* 

14X 

lOV 

22X 

26  X 

30X 

y 

1 

12X                                 16X                                 20X                                 24X 

28  X 

32  X 

The  copy  filmed  here  has  been  reproduced  thanks 
to  the  generosity  of: 


University  of  King's  College 
Halifax 


L'exemplajre  filmi  fut  reproduit  gr^ca  ^  la 
gin^rosit^  de: 

University  of  King's  College 

Halifax 


The  images  appearing  here  are  the  best  quality 
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of  the  original  copy  and  in  keeping  with  the 
filming  contract  specifications. 


Las  images  suivantes  ont  iti  raproduites  avec  le 
plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  at 
da  la  nettet^  de  I'axemplaire  filmi,  at  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
fiimage. 


Original  copies  in  printed  paper  covers  are  filmed 
beginning  with  the  front  cover  and  ending  on 
the  last  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, or  the  back  cover  when  appropriate.  All 
other  original  copies  are  filmed  beginning  on  the 
first  page  with  a  printed  or  illustrated  impres- 
sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  (in 
papier  est  imprim^e  sont  filmds  an  commenqarrt 
par  le  premier  plat  et  an  tarmii^ant  soit  par  la 
derniire  page  qui  comporte  une  amprainte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  seion  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  axamplairas 
originaux  sont  filmds  en  commencam  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  ampreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  at  en  tarminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  —^(meaning  'CON- 
TINUED ").  or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  'END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaitra  sur  la 
demiire  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbole  — hi*'  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbole  V  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc..  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


Las  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  atre 
filmte  i  des  taux  de  rMuction  diff^rents. 
Lorsquo  le  document  est.trop  grand  pour  atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  filmd  A  partir 
da  I'angie  sup^rieur  gauche,  de  gauche  ^  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'images  n^cessaire.  Las  diagrammes  suivants 
iilustrent  la  mdthode. 


1  2  3 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

MICROCOPY    RESOLUTION    TEST    CHART 

(ANSI  and  I30  TEST  CHART  No.  2) 


LO 


I.I 


1.25 


m 
1^  IIIIIM 


l:    11 
■^    III 


13.6 


14.0 


1.4 


2.5 

I  2.2 

2.0 

1.6 


^'      APPLIED  IfVMGE 


inc 


53   Last    Main   Street 
.-.lester.    New   York         14609        USA 
v.'16)   482  -0300  -  Ptione 
(      6)    288  -  5989  -  Knx 


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i 


THE 


CAPTIVITY  IN  BABYLO 


N 


I 


THE 


^ 


CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLO 


N 


AM 


OTHER    POEMS. 


BT    THE 


REV.   JOSEPH    I,.    CI.INC1I,    A.   M. 


BOSTON. 

JAMES  BURNS,  104  WASHINGTON  STREET. 

*• 

• ••.•• 

1840. 


..  v\ 


t 


DOTTON  &  WENTWOKTirS 
Steam  Pku. 


V. 


t 


CONTENTS. 


THE  CAPTIVITY  IN  BABYLON, 1 

ami:rican  antiquities,        gj 

BIKJIORY, «p 

t.m:  plav-ground  revisited,        70 

BY-(;ONE    DAYS, ,yg 

NIAGARA, ,y,y 

ATHENS,          r,t, 

SPRING,            ^^ 

TO    A    CLOUD, j^g 

RIZPAII, q,» 

I-ETHE, (jg 

THE    PASSAGE    OF    THE    JORDAN, IO5 

THE   KENNEBEC, iii 


i 


I 


i 


TO 


THE    EROSOPIIIAN   ADELPIII 


OF 


THIS   POEM, 


DELIVERED     BEFORE     TH 


EM 


AT   THEIR    RECENT    ANNIVERSARY, 


IS   DEDICATED, 


Bostcn,  September,  1839. 


i 


THE 


CAPTIYITY    IN    BABYL 


ON 


'► 


I. 

Not  through  llio  maze  of  pliilosophic  sonn- 
Nor  o'er  llic  wilds  of  mctnphysic  lore, 
Ahliough  to  these  luinumbcrcd  themes  belono- 
The  muse  lo-day  on  tiemhhng  wing  ^oukl  soar  ;— 
In  homely  guise  she  seeks  to  wander  o'er 
The  fiekls  of  simple  Narrative  aoriin 
And,  taught  by  voices  from  the  Past,  to  pour 
Her  descant  wikl,  commingled  with  the  strain 
Which  swept  from  Judah's  liarps  o'er  IJabel's  spacious  plain. 


^  * 


i 


2 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN   BABYLON. 


11. 

Croml  is  the  plain  of  S],i„ar,i  and  as  fair 
Asitislmxulan.lA.rfil.;  vineyards  rise 
And  waving  corn/ields  glinunor  here  and  il.cro 
Through  groves  of  spreading  pahns  :  the  cloudi.ss  skies 
i>^>nd  in  hiMc  arch  ahove-th,.  South  wind's  si-d^s 
Breathe  perAnne  round,  and  the  Euphrates,  slow 
Deep  and  majestic,  h'K-e  a  mirror  h^es 
CatcJ.i,)g  nionils  earliest  glory,  as  still  low 
The  orient  sun  springs  up,  bidding  all  nature  glow. 

III. 

But  not  on  tliee,  Euphrates,  his  first  snnle 

Falls  a,  ,e  looks  on  Ear,h;-,ong  ere  thy  stream 
Iveddens  hcnealh  his  radiance,  the  tall  ,)ile 

Of  Belus  hails  his  coming,  and  a  beam 
Of  hrightness  wraps  his  towers  in  one  rich  .leam 
Of  ruby  and  of  gold  :  then  down  the  wall 
Runs  the  rich  glory,  till,  like  fidry  .Irearn, 
Palace  and  arch  and  don.e  and  pillar  tall  ' 

Burst  brilliant  on  the  eve  fVnm  Tvr;  w^ 

'"i>  c}c  Horn  J\]ght's  enclosing  pall. 


I 


* 


THE    CAPTIVITV    J.\    BABYLON. 


3 


CICS 


IV. 

There  staiuleth  Rahylon  the  mi-hiy  :  2— o-nmd, 
Lovely  and  lone  amid  the  spreadino-  plain, 
E'en  as  an  Eastern  qucMi  may  j.n.iidly  stand 
With(jut  a  rival  near:   the  eye  in  vain 
Strives  the  stu])endons  ohject  to  contain; 
For  by  the  river's  hrink  on  either  side 
For  many  a  mile  (hy  tall  and  gilded  fane 
And  waving  garden'*  in  exalted  prich; 
0'ertoi)ped)  the  giant  wall  outstrctclies  hig],  and  wide, 


And  many  a  dark-browed  gate,  by  massive  shaft 
Flanked,  and  surmounted  by  deep  chiselled  stone, 
On  which  the  handiwork  of"  skilful  craft 
Its  eflbi-ts  deemed  exhausted,  there  hath  shown 
Serpents  bright  scaled  in  many  a  tortuous  zone 
Knotted  and  twined  :— the  valves  of  solid  ore 
Below  fling  back  the  splendors  o'er  tliem  thrown 
From  the  unclouded  sun,  while  on  the  floor 
Broadly  the  shadows  sleep  by  niche  and  corridor. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    IJACVLON. 


VT. 

Above,  ]iigh  up  along-  llio  frownino-  wall 
Hang  tho  cnil)attlc(l  ])arai)e(s,  Mliicli  sweep 
In  long  porspcctivo  onwar'l,  milil  all 
I^r.-'ll  in  the  distance,  tliough  the  eye  may  keep 
For  many  a  mile  beyond  (until  the  deep 
Dimness  of  space  forbids)  the  towers  which  hide 
Tiic  archers  and  balistie  ;  bright  they  sleep, 
Crowning  tlie  long  defences,  in  the  tide 
Which  morning  pours  around  on  all  that  home  of  Pride. 

VII. 

Within,  along  her  streets  of  i)alaccs, 
The  mighty  stream  of  human  life  rolls  by,— 
Sorrow  and  Joy,  and  Pain  and  careless  Ease, 
Youth  and  Old  Age— Beauty— Deformity— 
Health-Sickness— AVant  and  Splendor-on  the  eye 
Press  million  after  million,  though  the  street 
Hath  yet  uncrowdcd  space  :  the  l)usy  cry 
Of  Labor,  and  the  sounds  of  myriad  feet 
And  Art's  continual  hum,  in  one  wild  murmur  meet. 


t 


ji 


THE  CAPTIVITY  IN  BADVLON. 


VIII. 

Nor  from  the  streets  alone  the  sounds  of  life 
Rise  in  coinnn-nglfd  tunes  ;— the  ])orticoes— 
The  temple  ste].s— th(.'  Avails— with  noise  are  rife,— 
The  bridge  aeross  the  river's  deep  repose 
Swarms  with  its  thousands,  and  the  stairs'^  which  close 
The  stream  on  citlier  hand  are  tenanted  ; 
And  music  over  all  its  softness  throws 
From  many  a  pinnace,  gilt  and  garlanded. 
With  flags  and  silken  sails  o'er  broad  .Eui)hrates  spread. 

IX. 

And  here  and  there  along  the  level  way 
Pass  menial  bands,  with  robes  of  Tyrian  dye, 
Of  guarding  slaves,  whose  mistress  goes  to  pay 
Her  early  call  of  courtesy  : — on  high 
O'er  her  gemmed  litter  sjjreads  a  canopy 
Of  silk  whose  crimson  folds  the  morning  gale 
Plays  gaily  with,  and  flutters  fitful  by, 
Lifting  the  fringe,  whose  silver  bells  their  tale 
Of  tinkling  music  tell-a  soft,  rich,  slumberous  wail. 
1* 


< 


6 


THE  CAPTIVITY  IN  EADYLON. 


X. 

High  on  tho  echoing  roa<]  u  l,i,,.l,  iH-nds  around 
The  lofty  siiiniiiif  of  the  broad-toj^pod  wall, 
Sweeps  I,y,  with  ghtlcring  poinp  and  llumdering  sound, 
The  chariot  of  some  noble,  wlioni  tlie  call 
Of  duty  or  of  i)lcasLire  wakes  to  all 
The  glories  of  the  sce.ic  :— his  prancing  steeds 
Fret  on  the  golden  bit,  an<l  toss  their  tall 
Wliite  phniies,  and  shake  their  breast-encircling  beads, 
And  stamp  with  restless  foot,  if  aught  tiieir  course  impedes 

XL 

While  stationed  at  each  gemmed  and  studded  rein 
Attendants  run  in  splendid  dress  arrayed, 
Their  turbans  looped  with  jewels  and  their  cane 
Of  office  with  bright  rings  of  oold  inkiid  • 
And  low  upon  the  dust  each  servile  head 
Bends  in  profound  obeisance  as  that  train 
Of  gorgeous  state  sweeps  by ;  too  ^vell  repaid 
If  the  proud  Satrap  from  his  lieight  but  deign 
To  'vavo  his  ivory  wand,  and  bid  them  rise  again. 


i 


1 


TII£    CAPTIVITY    IN    PABVLON. 


XII. 

But  lo !  ho  pauses  o'er  tlie  AVcstcni  gate, 
And  looks  across  the  ])Iaia  with  ean;(.r  gaze, 
Aloiin-  uiioso  level  margin  (which  hut  laic 
Slept  still  and  silent  in  the  day-god's  hlaze, 
Moving  alone  with  morning's  gauze-like  liaze,) 
Now  sweeps  a  long,  dark,  slowlj  moving  train, 
Which,  as  it  iiears  the  Cily  wall,  displays 
Steeds,  camels,  oxen  with  the  groaning  wain, 
And  footmen,  dragging  slow  the  weary  ste])  of  pain. 


XIII. 

Who  may  they  he  ?— Traders  from  foreign  land 
Laden  with  goodly  merchandise  ? — hrlght  "old 
From  distant  Ophir  ?  gems  from  Afric's  strand  ? 
Linens  from  Egypt  ?  gums  of  price  untold, 
And  rich  Sahrcan  odors,  to  be  rolled 
In  smoking  incense  at  the  gleaming  shrine 
Of  Bel  us  or  of  Ashtaroth  ?  or  hold 
Those  heavy  wains,  the  juice  of  Sibmah's  vine, 
Or  that  from  fartiier  liills  where  milder  suns  may  shine  ? 


i 


'.*i>I 

-t)^' 


8 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    DADYLON. 


XTV. 

Yet  wliy  Willi  lance  and  banner  come  tlicy  on  ? 
Tl.y  noerl  not  these  on  i>cacefnl  journey  bent 
O'er  Shinar's  ])lain  to  strong-armed  Babylon. 
;|  l^^  it  some  distant  Satrap  who  hath  sent 

I  His  troops  with  long  owed  tribute,  to  prevent 

i  The  monarch's  rising  anger  ?— or  ihe  kin- 

Perchance  hath  Immbled  Judah,  for  lie  went 
i  From  Babylon  so  puqiosed,^  and  doth  bring 

I  The  nation  at  Iiis  feet  tlieir  lives  and  wealth  to  flln-. 


XV. 

Yes  !  '/is  rebellious  Judali ;— gleaming  there 
In  splendid  heaps  upon  the  wains  beliold 
Flagons  and  cups  and  goblets  passing  fair, 
And  rich  chased  chalices  with  lips  of  gold— 
Tlie  vessels  of  their  worship— formed  to  hold 
Incense  and  wine  and  blood  of  sacrifice  ; 
And  golden  lamps,  and,  wrapped  in  many  a  fold, 
The  rich,  mysterious  Veil ;  and  gems  of  price 
Which  decked  her  priests  who  stood  in  sacrificial  guise. 


I 


i 


I 


• 


Tin:    CAl'TIVITV    I.\    HAnVLON. 


9 


rim 


XV[. 

Ami  altars  il„.,Y.  ;,rr.  ,,il<.,]  i„  Mou.lly  show, 
i'laN.la.Hln.M.Uviti,  ,no|,|,anMi,MlMlK,so'ri 

Kisc  crmvn.  of  .ln.dlr,l  o,v  in  many  a  row, 
^Viil,  hr.iwn  gratings  for  the  ouivcring  Wmb 
Of  lightr.,Isacrinco:  ih,.  o,,!,!  is  .lini 
Still  will,  the  sprinklr,!  |,!o,mI  wl.irlMM!  around 
As  uitii  llio  suioke,  to  Heaven  arose  the  Jn  nni 
Fn.in  white  stoled  Leviles,  chanting  to  the  sound 
Of  psaltery  and  of  harj.  witliin  the  Tein].lc's  bound. 


" 


XVII. 

And  there  are  silver  rynd)als  whieh  gave  out 
Their  eh.shing  music  in  the  battle's  van, 
And  hamiercd  trumj.ots  which  j.rolonged  the  shout 
Which,  through  the  land  to  hail  the  new-moon,  ran 
From  Ilcersheba  to  oceim-girdled  Dan  ; 
There  in  rich  ])ilers  the  golden  censers  lie 
Dark  with  tlic  incense  smoke  which  rose  to  fan 
The  sacrificial  flame,— and,  piled  on  high 
Jewels  and  gems  and  vests  and  cloths  of  gorgeous  dye. 


■I 


10 


THE    CAPTIVITV    I.N    HAHVLox. 


x\m. 

And  ihon^  ^'TRiouuiin^  all  tlio  spl,  ,.li.|  ),pap, 
ThogiNlo(l,aL,,.^f,,„K,  ,,,,   no,.  Mvn-lai.l,    ' 
In  goklcii  baskets  rieiuy  carvecUui.l  ,1..,.,,, 
The  cfikes  a,„l  Joavcs  of  consecrated  bread  ; 
And  there  tl.c  Cherubim  with  wings  onfsprcad, 
Ciuarding  the  Mercy  Seat— the  gohlen  iid 
Of  the  much  treasured  Ark,-whercin  the  drea.l 
Sto,i(..  tabi,,.s  of  flu:  Law  arc  closely  hi<l, 
And  many  a  holy  thing  to  toucli  and  sight  forbid." 

XIX. 

The  esc  , ft  to  the  gates  their  jadc'd  stec.is 
Urge  in  advance  :  wide  at  their  coming  flies 
TJie  brazen  door,  and  he  the  band  wlio  leads 
Springs  througli  tlie  arch  and  to  the  palace  hies, 
To  meet  tlic  Viceroy  :  there  in  lunnble  guise 
He  si)caks  the  monarch's  orders  to  admit 
TJie  cciptivc  nation— furnisli  due  sup])lies— 
Assign  their  quarters— and  at  season  fit 
Duties  entrust  to  each  wliich  none  might  intermit. 


J 


1 


i^ 


THE   CAPTIVITV    l.\    IIMJvrnv 


u 


J 


XX. 

T1.C  massy  bolts  f,v„n  ovory  -mo  aro  rlrawn 
Along  fl.o  W'est.n,  uall,  ,-,n.l  hvo  I,y  tuo 
Tlio  weary  r,,,,m,.s  luanh  .Irspomlincr  on 
To  o.xil..  .ui.l  tn  l„,n.lag,;:   there  were  fow 
E'en  in  tl.af  homo  of  triiunpli  who  could  vicxv 
Wiih  teurlf'ss  eye  the  sad  procession  (urin  ; 
On  every  captive  cheek  th<-  pallid  hii.; 
Of  pain  and  sorrow  sat,  an<l  though  still  warm, 
Like  Sun.n.er's  rain,  their  tears,  how  bitter  was  that  storm  ! 


1 


XX  [. 

Tl.crc  passed  the  sorrowing  Afonarch,  by  decree 
Of  Ids  stern  toe  lurbi<l  to  see  the  woes 
Wldcb  none  but  flemons  could  untroubled  sec ; 
A  linen  bandage  winds  its  foldings  close 
Around  bis  orbless  brow,"  which  burns  and  glows 
With  smart  of  recent  torture  ;— whilst  his  mind 
Revolves  the  double  i)ro],hecy,*^  he  knows 
T.     a-uth  he  doubted  once,  when  douhli/  blind, 
From  other  hands  than  God's,  safety  he  sought  to  find. 


13 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


Thorc  passed  ihc  weeping  Priest  ;-]n,  cpl.od  rent, 
His  long,  nhifo  vestment  deeply  soiled  with  blood, 
Partly  from  bleeding  vielini  wlien  he  bent 
Before  the  nltar,-purtly  from  the  Hood 
Whi(di  flowed  around  him  as  in  arn.s  he  stood 
Guarding  the  Temple  froin  the  spoiler\s  hand- 
Buf  all  in  vain!     Jn  melancholy  ,nood 
He  treads  tlic  streets  of  exile  'niid  the  band 
With  bondage  cursed  for  sin,  slaves  in  a  foreign  land. 


XXIII. 

Tlierc  passed  the  widowed  Mother,  at  whose  side 
Two  weeping  orphans  elung—their  father  lay 
Lifeless  amid  the  (h-solation  wide 
Of  overthrown  Jerusalem,  and  they 
Following  ihoir  wretehed  mother  far  away 
From  their  dear  home,  now  swelled  the  troubled  stream 
Of  grief,  wlmd.  throngh  the  open  gates,  to-day, 
Of  J^abylon  flowed  in,  o'er  whieli  no  beam 
Of  hope  or  comfort  foil,  its  darkness  to  redeem. 


-r. 


THE    CArXIVITV    IN    BABYLON. 


XXIV. 

Tl.crc  passed  the  cl.ildlcss  Fail.er,  tliough  liis  arm 
Bore  wliut  was  Ial(>  of  nine  the  youngest  born, 
Fair  scions  wliicli,  alas  !  the  ruthless  storm 
Had  from  th(>  bhghted  trunk  too  rudely  torn  ; 
For  days  of  pain  and  sorrow  he  had  worn 
Tliat  faded  flower  upon  his  Jieart,  too  dear— 
Too  precious  to  relinquish  ;  and  forlorn 
His  silent  partner  followed  ever  near, 
Yet  sorrow's  founts  were  dry,  for  neither  shed  a  tear. 


13 


im 


XXV. 

And  there  tlic  nohh^  Voulh,  whoso  brow  displayed 
The  lines  of  age  by  toil  and  iniserv  traced. 
And  at  his  side  a  ])ale  and  weeping  maid 
Hangs  on  the  arm  wliicli  clasps  l,er  fragile  waist; 
In  happier  days  diat  sinking  form  liad  graced 
Her  childhood's  hom(>,  and  that  wan  lover  deemed, 
With  youth's  impatience,  Time  too  leadcn-paccd. 
And  oft  „f  coming  liopes  and  joys  he  dreamed. 
And  that  near  marriage-feast  which  all  too  distant  seemed ; 


14 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


I 


XXVI. 

Till,  when  that  n.orning  dawned,  and  .any  a  guest 
^-nod  fb.  the  hndal  halls  his  .hes  of  ,L 
lie  saw  tJ)e  trooj.s  of  Babylon  invest 
Tlio  ancient  City  roun.I  on  every  side  •-. 

And  1.11  and  vale  in  „.on.'s  reAdgent  iide 
•         y^""'  ''-''''  ^^-  «-^^'  -Kl  an.our  of  ,he  foe 

And  m  tlie  ]ion)e  where  Ph..,^,,,.      i      ,  , 

^"t-io  i  loasure  should  abide 

^ame,  all  unbidden  jti„>c,c.   n;  . 

''^'»  g^'^stS  Distress  and  Woo 

Ana  1  error,  o'er  the  lim.-,!  ♦>,•,.      • 

*aul  t,en-  !,,«„„,„  sigh,  ,o  ,l„.o,v. 

xxv;j. 

On-o„  they  p„.,ed  :_,  ,„ola„choly  .rain- 
A  conccntralio,,  of  all  ca,c-„l|  „oo- 
AM  hcart.subduu.g  sorron-  and  „||  ,,„;„ 

Tha,Ha,c.  and  W„,.,„dCo,„„os.  can  bestow; 

Ih-e  all  the  closest  ties  the  heart  can  know 
As.indc,.  had  hcen  rent,  and  despot  Mate 

Had  hade  the  c„p  of  bitterness  o'ernow 

And  ye,  i,  was  not  full !     On  their  sad  s'tato 

txde  an<l  pinching  want  and  degfada.ion  wait 


f 


i 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


15 


xxviir. 

CrusliccI  and  deserted  Judali !  tliou  liast  left 
No  name  a>nong  tiie  nations  ;  tor  a  race 
Once  hated-scorned  and  Jiun.bled,  has  bereft 
'rheo  of  thy  ancient  Jicritage  and  phicc  : 
And  slavery  now,  and  toil  and  deep  disgrace 
Must  be  thy  portion.     Oiice  thou  wast  a^juccn, 
Virgin  of  Judah  !  and  thy  haughty  face 
Was  beautiful,  but  dreadful  to  be  seen 
By  the  fierce  nations  round  who  on  thy  aid  would  lean. 


t 
1L 


XXIX. 

But  now  thy  sceptre  is  departed  :— lone 
Thou  sittest  by  the  streams  of  Babylon, 
Waking  in  grief  thy  wild  harp's  saddest  tone, 
Wailing  the  former  days  and  glories  gone ; 
For  of  thy  greatness  now  remains  not  one 
Poor  remnant,  but  within  a  foreign  land, 
A  stranger  and  a  slave,  thou  toilest  on,  ' 
Eating  the  bread  of  sorrow,  and  thy  hand 
Fulfils  from  day  to  day  a  n.aster's  stern  command. 


16 


THE    CAPTIVITY    Ix\    BABYLON. 


XXX. 

No  Temple  sacred  to  Jehovah's  name, 
Arises  near  thee  in  its  solemn  state, 
Echoing  with  hallelujahs'  loud  acclaim, 
From  countless  numbers,  who  impatient  wait 
Admittance  at  its  strong,  majestic  gate. 
Or  from  its  ample  court  in  volumes  vast 
Rolling  the  smoke  of  sacrifice  :  stern  Hate 
Hath  to  the  ground  its  lofty  turrets  cast, 
And  o'er  its  broken  walls  hath  J3esolation  passed. 


XXXI. 

The  holy  fire^  in  darkness  hath  gone  out. 
So  long  preserved  with  strict  religious  care, 
No  more  in  arms  thy  gathered  people  shout, 
As  white-robed  priests  the  Ark  to  battle  bear ; 
The  Urim  and  the  Thunnnlm^o  are  not  there, 
Nor  golden  cup  of  manna  undccaycd. 
Nor  Aaron's  rod  with  budding  blossoms  fliir. 
Nor  those  mysterious  tablets  which  were  made 
On  Sinai's  awful  top,  when  God  his  power  displayed. 


THE    CAPTIVITV    IN    BABYLON. 


17 


XXXIf. 

Thy  sins  have  been  thy  curse,  and  God  hath  used 
Bui  as  an  instrument  prou.l  Babel's  might, 
To  humble  and  to  punish  :— fl,at,  accused 
By  thine  own  thoughts,  and  by  the  holy  h'ght 
Whicli  prophecy  shall  shed,  thy  bondagelight 
May  in  its  dark  and  lonely  hours  display 
Visions  of  mercy  to  thy  spirit's  sight, 
To  point  to  thee  Hope's  angel-trodden  way, 
And  bid  thee  feel  thy  sins,  and  mourn,  repent,  and  pray. 
*  *  *  *  *  » 

XXXIII. 

Years  liavc  passed  by  :-to  Dura's  spacious  plain 
Millions  are  hurrying,  not  from  thee  alone. 
Thou  royal  City,  but  they  pour  amain 

From  distant  provinces  and  tribes  miknown  ; 

The  neighbor  towns  and  cities,  too,  have  thrown 

Their  streams  of  life  thereon,  and  from  the  crowd 

Voices  of  every  dialect  and  tone 

Rise  mingled,  as  of  old  the  discord  loud 
Eose  from  that  very  plain,n  when  God  dispersed  the  proud 
2* 


t 


■^ 


t 


18 


THE   CAPTIVITY   IN    BABYLON. 


XXXIV. 

Thitl.cr  from  Pcrsis  camo  they,  and  the  lands 
Of  far  Carniania—Syria  also  sent 
Her  rough  barbarians,  with  Iho  distant  bands 
Of  Bactria  and  Armenia  ;— others  bent 
Their  ste,>s  f^.^  .,  Media,  and  from  many  a  tent 
Arabia  poured  lier  tliousands ;  and  the  men 
Of  Tadmor  came  :  Elam  and  Susa  lent 
Their  dwellers,  with  Ecbatana,  for  then 
A  sunniions  called  them  there  which  none  might  hear  again. 


1 


XXXV. 

Rising  in  splendor  o'er  each  meaner  thino- 
Tall,  lone  and  glorious,  stands  a  god  of  gold,^^ 
Whoso  fe;  aurcs  in  the  sunlight  glimmering 
Smile  warm  and  brighi__though  all  withi^is  cold. 
Ah  !  many  an  idol  since  to  man  hath  told 
Its  falsehood  by  such  smiles.     Then  clear  and  high 
Arise  the  voice  of  heralds,  who  unfold 
The  King's  command,  to  worship  there  or  die 
In  yonder  sea  of  flame  that  roars  and  flashes  nigh. 


I 


jain. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    I3ABYL0N. 


XXXVI. 

Fortlnvith  harmonious  tones  iij)on  tlio  air 
Of  lliat.  slill  morning  rise  with  thrilh'ng  note, 
Wild  OS  tlic  sounds  yI^:oliun  liari)-strings  bear, 
Non-  swelling  near— now  more  and  more  remote, 
Yet  in  such  sweet  aecordancy  tl)ey  float, 
Tl)at  magic  liands  appear  to  guide  tiic  strain  ; 
Tlie  Juished  and  ravished  muhitude  devote 
Attention  so  profound,  that  they  remain 
Forgetful  of  the  god  a  moment  on  the  plain. 

XXXVII. 

Sudden  the  music  ceased  ;  to  thought  recalled, 
The  head  of  all,  as  one  vast  body,  bowed  ; 
Prostrate  upon  the  earth  they  fall,  appalled 
By  the  dark  smoke  which  rose  in  sul])h'rous  cloud 
From  the  dread  furnace  near ;  the  mighty  crowd 
Sank— but  erect,  amid  the  suppliants  there. 
Three  no:  .0  forms  remained— untrembling— proud- 
Bold  in  a  righteous  cause,  they  scorned  to  share 
The  rites  to  idols  paid— the  foul,  unholy  prayer. 


19 


20 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


XXXVIII. 

And  from  tlic  fiery  trial  forth  thoy  came 
Ui)blackcncd  and  unhurt ;  no  hair  was  singed— 
No  garment  injured  in  liiat  sea  of  flame  ; 
The  fires  had  lost  their  energies,  and  tinged 
Scarce  with  a  ruddier  glow  those  features  fringed 
With  manhood's  earliest  down  ;  for  God  was  there 
Supporting  those  who  honored  him,  nor  crino-ed 
Before  a  tyrant  who  would  gold  compare 
With  Ilim  who  rolls  the  orbs  through  boundless  fields  of  air. 


^ 


XXXIX. 

Awed  into  admiration  of  His  power, 
The  King  ascribes  to  God  the  honor  due, 
And  loads  with  gifts  the  men  who  would  not  cower 
Before  those  threats  whose  ruthless  ire  they  knew, 
Proving  by  faith  that  Judah's  God  was  true  ;— 
Stations  of  trust  he' delegates  to  those 
Whom  laie  he  doomed  to  ruin,  and  the  Jew 
Perceived  his  burdens  lightened,  and  his  woes 
Vanish  before  the  smiles  the  monarch  now  bestows. 


^ 


ftl 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    HABYLON. 


21 


XL. 

Heavy  the  griefs  tliat  Judal.'s  l.eart  l.ad  pressed  : 
For  hhu-k  had  heen  her  sh.s,  an.l  long  the  seroll 
Of  ]ier  abominations  ;  she  had  dressed 
Her  priests  in  Kaal's  vestments,  and  the  stole 
Of  those  who  fron.  unhallouvd  eensers  roll 
Tlie  ineensc  unto  ])agon,  and  had  hnilt 
To  unknoun  gods  and  devils,  and  the  whole 
Bright  host  of  rieaven  rich  altars,  and  in  gudt, 
E'en  in  Goi.\s  house,  the  blood  of  saerifiee  had  spilt. 


XLI. 

She  had  profaned  His  Temple,  and  had  given 
The  worship  due  to  Him  to  tree  and  stone, 
And  thus  ealled  down  the  bitter  wrath  of  Heaven 
Long  waked,  but  lor.g  delayed  .-her  erimes  had  grown 
Beyond  the  reach  of  j)ardon,  and  the  throne 
And  sceptre  passed  away  to  other  hands  ; 
Then  in  her  long  captivity  her  moan 
Ascended  to  the  Mercy  Seat,  her  bands 
Are  one  by  one  relaxed,  her  wakening  heart  expands. 


33 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BAHYLON. 


.     !i 


XLII. 

Again  tho  proplicts  of  the  Ili^rhost  bear 
Kind  messages  of  n.orcy,  J^olding  out 
Hope,  ,)ardon,  peace,  to  penitence  and  prayer 
I^n  bitterer  woes  to  those  who  blin.lly  scout 
The  o/Ters  of  His  love  ;  doubt  after  doubt 

Mchs  like  a  cloud  away;  for  grief  had  taught 
UuimUty  of  heart,  and  whilst  about 

•i-heir  boson^s  played  the  ever  cl^eering  thought 

Of  freedom  and  of  hon.e,  their  cares  they  balf  forgot. 

XLiir. 

Among  the  messengers  of  God,  who  came 
In  mercy  to  his  people,  Daniel  rose. 
For  wisdom  honored  much,-for  holy  flame 
Of  inspiration  more  ;-hc  came  with  those 
Sad  exiles  to  the  City  of  their  foes 
A  child,-supported  o'er  the  toilsome  road 
In  that  safe  scat  a  mother's  love  bestows,- 
Her  tireless  arm  ;  and  well  the  precious  load 
Repaid  Jier  tender  care  and  blessed  her  lone  abode 


f 


^   s. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


23 


XLIV. 

And  former  monnrclis  to  their  jwlaco  led 
And  loved  the  Hebrew  Imy,  .-.nd  soon  he  knew 
All  lore  by  Eastern  sages  writ  or  read, 
And  anjrcds  from  the  founts  of  wisdom  (low, 
And  bathed  his  brow  with  inspiration's  dew, 
And  touehed  his  lips  with  fire  ;  and  when  there  camo 
ricaven-messagcd  visions  on  tlie  monarch's  view, 
That  youth  put  all  Chaldea's  seers  to  shame, 
And  thus  to  honors  rose,  to  favor  and  to  fame. 


XLV. 

The  courts  of  Belus*  temple  flash  with  light 
Gleaming  from  thousand  lamj)s  ;  around  arc  spread 
Banquets  of  royal  luxury,  which  invito 
The  sated  sense  anew.     His  mighty  head 
High  o'er  the  feast,^^  with  costly  incense  fed, 
The  grim-eyed  idol  rears  ;  and  wanton  sonir. 
And  drunken  revel,  by  Belshazzar  led, 
Rise  round  it  as  fit  worship,  and  nrolonfr 
E'en  to  the  midnight  hour  the  joys  of  that  lewd  throng. 


24 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    I5AUYL0N. 


XLVI. 

Dizzy  with  love  and  wino,  and  dccminrr  nil 
Thoso  pleasures  nungl.t,  till  sfon,  cxc-itcnu-,,!  throw 
Her  frenzied  joys  around  Inni,  at  i.is  call 
Tlic  slaves  of  proud  HHshn/xar,  br.n.lin-  low, 
Hear  in  ih^,.  golden  cups,  whose  burnished  glow 
Reflected  once  ihe  altar  of  the  Lord, 
In  Judah's  ruined  Temple  ;  they  o'erflow 
Now  with  unhallowed  wine,  where  riles  abhorred 
And  sensual  pleasures  reign  around  the  madman's  board. 


III 


XLVII 

And  Nisroc,  Aslitaroth  and  Bc\  behold 
TJieir  sin-polluted  altars  freely  flow 
With  deep  libations  from  those  cu])S  of  gold 
Used  in  Jehovah's  worship  long  ago  ; 
The  very  flames  that  o'er  their  grimness  throw 
A  flickering  radiance,  rise  from  golden  stem 
And  polished  branch,  which  caught  its  earliest  glow 
From  thy  shrined  Sheckinah,  Jerusalem, 
Flashing  reflected  light  on  purple,  ore  and  gem. 


THE   CAPTIVi 


nARYLON. 


35 


row 


d 

board. 


M'hat  ,li.„s  fl,c  waning  la.nps  ^-Hath  morning  burst 
Too  soon  ui)(,ii  iho  revol  ?--N.) !  a  liaht 

As  brilliant  J>ut  I..SS  .,la,Ison.,,  cutchc^  first 

Tho  trnnhlin.r  n.onan-h's  ,.y.,  ,.„,  ,,i,^,t_,  ,,.^  ^.^^^ 

His  check  hath  lost  its  nnsh,  and  wild  alFright 
Seizes  on  him  and  all  his  thoughtless  crcw^ 
Along  the  wall  a  visioned  hand  doth  write  ' 
Strang.,  cliaractors  of  lln>,  whos.  threatening  hue 
Tlu-ows  with  a  fearful  glare  each  object  on  tlie  view. 


w 


XLIX. 

Stiminoncd  in  haste  with  scrolls  of  mystic  lore, 
And  potent  rods  and  robes  of  sombre  i]yc, 
And  ginlles,  with  strange  letters  painted  o'er, 
Swept  by  tlKMr  snowy  beards,  the  wise  men  hie, 
And  by  the  scat  of  splendor  prostrate  lie. 
Waiting  tlie  King's  behest ;  his  trembling  liand 
Points  to  the  flashing  letters,  and  with  e>ye 
Averted  still,  he  birls  the  wondering  band 
Ecveal  the  wor<ls  of  fate  that  all  might  understand. 


--.  iaL^^tJixt,aet:&amwh,K</ffm 


26 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


L. 

Dismayed  tlicy  pause  :  their  thoughtful  eyes  they  strain 
Long  on  the  gleaming  words,  then  seek  the  line 
Of  wisdom  in  their  scrolls,  but  seek  in  vain  ; 
Each  to  the  other  makes  some  silent  sicrn 
To  ask  if  there  be  hope  the  words  divine 
To  read  and  to  unravel,  but  reply 
Receiveth  none,  and  still  the  letters  shine, 
Glaring  with  awful  brightness  from  on  hi"-h, 
Full  on  the  battled  seers  and  the  pale  company. 


LI. 

"  What !  is  there  none  whose  magic  skill  can  read 
Those  letters  of  astonishment  and  fear," 
The  King  exclaimed,  "  and  to  their  purport  lead 
My  troubled  thoughts  ?     Is  there  710  prophet  here .? 
I  will  give  glory  to  the  godlike  seer 
Who  leads  my  mind  this  hidden  thing  to  know. 
Wealth  shall  be  his,  and  fame — he  shall  appear 
Enrobed  in  regal  scarlet,  while  below 
The  throne  but  three  degrees  his  seat  I  will  bestow." 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


27 


'■  strain 


LII. 

Then,  called  in  Imstc,  Daniel  before  him  stood, 
Severe,  yet  modest,  and  unawcd,  as  one 
Long  conversant  with  courts  ;  the  wall  he  viewed 
A  moment  where  the  wondrous  writing  shone, 
Then  turned  him  to  the  King  :i''  "  to  me  be  none 
Such  gifts,  O  Prince  !  but  hear  from  lip  unpaid 
The  doom  thou  hast  awaked  and  cannot  shun, 
The  judgm(!nts  now  to  burst  upon  thy  head, 
Traced  by  the  hand  of  God,  and  soon  to  be  displayed. 


.? 


LIIl. 

"  Thy  sire  by  Sorrow's  teaching  learned  to  own 
That  God  alone  rules  Earth  :  and  that  Mis  will 
Bestows  on  each  the  sceptre  and  the  throne. 

Till  they  their  several  destinies  fulfd  : 

And  this  thou  knew'st ;  and  yet,  rebellious  still, 
Hath  scorned  Jehovah,  daring  to  pollute 
These  holy  vessels,  and  from  them  to  spill 
Libations  at  an  imaged  monster's  foot. 
Honoring  above  thy  God  the  daemon  or  the  brute. 


28 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


LIV. 

"  Hear  then  the  message  He  to  thee  conveys 
By  this  mysterious  writing,  clear  and  bright  : 
Mene— thy  kingdom  hath  fulfilled  its  days, 
Thy  reign  shall  end  on  this  eventful  ni<dit:— 
Tekel— the  balance  hath  declared  thee  lifdit 
For  thou  by  God's  just  judgments  hast  been  weighed, 
Perez,  division  cometh,  and  the  micrht 
Of  Media  and  of  Persia  shall  invade 
This  thy  ancestral  seat,  and  seize  thy  sccptre-bladc." 


ih 


HI     r 


I  ;^  I  ^ 


LV. 

The  prophet's  duty  is  fulfdlcd— the  hand 
Fades,  like  a  fleeting  shadow,  from  the  view, 
No  longer  in  their  withering  brightness  stand 
Along  the  wall  the  mystic  words  which  threw 

So  late  around  their  doom-denouncing  hue  ; 

Through  heavy  arch  and  brazen  gateway  passed   ■ 
The  holy  man,  though  oft  as  he  withdrew, 
Pausing,  a  sad  and  pitying  glance  hv  cast 
O'er  the  pale  revellers  there— that  banquet  was  their  last. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON.' 


29 


ighcd, 


Ic." 


LVI. 

But,  with  the  hand  and  witli  the  words  of  fate 
Passed  to  the  winds  the  terrors  which  had  thrown 
Their  cloud  upon  the  festival ;— elate 
Bolshazzar  bids  his  guests  in  gayest  tone 
Drown  graver  thoughts,  and  leave  the  dim,  unknown 
Future  to  seers  and  dreamers  .-—high  in  pride 
He  lifts  a  bowl,  whose  golden  radiance  shone 
Bright  through  the  purple  stream  which  laves  its  side, 
As  on  the  ground  he  pours  the  full  libation  tide  :— 


sir  last. 


LVII. 

Then  to  his  lip  .-—but  why  in  startled  haste 
Doth  his  unsteady  hand  relax  its  hold. 
Bathing  the  marble  pavement  with  rich  waste, 
As  rings  upon  its  stones  the  empty  gold  ? 
Why,  springing  to  his  feet,  doth  he  unfold 
The  royal  purple  from  his  breast,  and  throw 
His  diadem  to  Earth  ?     A  shout  hath  rolled 
From  broad  Euphrates'  banks,  and  cries  of  woe 
Rise  on  the  midnight  air  and  fill  the  courts  below. 
3* 


30 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


LVIII. 

The  Median  is  upon  thee  !     He  haih  turned 
Aside  Euphrates'  watersi-'  from  their  bed, 
And  through  its  arch  and  empty  eliannel  learned 
The  pathway  to  thy  palace,  and  hath  sped 
Up  through  the  open  gates,  which  should  have  spread 
Their  barriers  rivcrward,  his  course  to  stay  ; 
Hopeless  defence  !  the  infuriate  foemen  tread 
O'er  useless  arms,  and  on  the  marble  way 
The  wine  enfeebled  guards  and  silken  menials  slay. 


LIX. 

On,  on  like  torrents  from  the  mountains  hurled, 
Rush  the  invaders  to  their  glorious  prey  ; 
The  joys  of  sense  have  all  their  lures  unfm-led, 
And  beckon  onward  through  the  bloody  way  : 
Riches  more  vast  than  in  her  wildest  play 
Fancy  could  paint  or  Avarice  could  require, 
Doth  Babel,  in  her  regal  affluence,  lay 
Before  the  astonished  sonse,  and  that  soft  fire 
By  lewd  Astarte  lit,  and  fanned  by  wild  Desire. 


f 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


LX. 

And  sliglit  repulse  from  faint-soulcd  troops  they  meet, 
And  soft,  lux^;rious  slaves  ;  Midc,  wide  they  swarm 
Tln-ough  many  a  sculptnred  arch  and  ],alaced  street, 
And  Belus  cuoes  to  the  loud  alarm  ; 
Around  Ids  feet  the  jewelled  floor  is  warm 
With  blood  of  thousand  worshippers,  who  lift 
Their  hands  to  him  for  safety,— but  his  arm 
And  glance  alike  are  impotent,  and  swift 
The  Median's  sabre  sweeps  ;— the  tomb  hath  many  a  gift. 


LXI. 

The  courts  which  echoed  late  with  shout  and  song 
And  revelry  and  mirlh,— resound  with  wail 
And  shriek  and  lamentation,  loud  and  lon<r  • 
The  voice  of  Power  can  now  no  more  avail. 
Nor  Beauty's  mute  appeal,  as  trembling,  pale, 
She  spreads  her  hands  and  lifts  her  brow  of  light. 
And  those  wild,  lustrous  eyes,  whose  eloquent  talc 
Then  first  no  pity  moved  ;— the  dsemon  might 
Of  Fury  baffled  long,  now  gains  its  curblcss  lieight. 


!  ;;i 


32 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


LXII. 

But  of  that  coward  herd  which  knelt  before 
The  Persian's  arm,  one  heart  had  thrown  aside 
His  woman's  softness,  and  stood  forth  no  more 
A  pale-eycd  Sybarite  ;  but  kingly  pride, 
And  stern  resolve  to  meet  the  o'erwhelming  tide, 
And  noble  do'-ng,  in  his  form  and  eye, 
At  length  had  found  their  home,  and  flashing  wide 
H]s  dcath-bestowing  scymetar  on  high, 
Swept  with  the  whirlwind's  power,  and^bade  the  bravest  fly. 

LXIII. 

Behind  a  wall  of  slaughtered  foes  he  stood, 
Like  lion  turned  to  bay ;  around  him  fell 
Arrow  and  javelin,  thirsting  for  his  blood, 
In  frequent  shower,  ringing  continuous  knell 
Upon  his  full  orbed  shield;  and  oft  the  swell 
Of  victory's  shouting,  premature,  arose, 
As  near  him  flew  some  lance  directed  well, 
Or  grazing  arrow  point,  for  still  his  foes 
Feared  his  excited  ire,  nor  dared  around  him  close. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


33 


rvide 
)ravest  fly. 


LXIV. 

Sudden  a  shout  was  Lcavd-a  warrior  sprang 
Bcyoiid  the  blcedii,g  nun.nd,  and,  luind  to  h.-md, 
Long  time  tlicir  clasliing  hladcs  and  bucklers  rang, 
Wliilc  breathless  stillness  falls  on  oither  band  ; 
Invaders  and  invaded,  on  the  grand 
Yet  awful  scene,  intensely  looking  on, 
And  leaning  on  their  useless  weapons,  stand; 
One  falls— Belshazzar's  fated  life  is  gone— 
Darius— tliine  alone  is  u  ■de-walled  Babylon. 


•I 


LXV. 

Babel  hath  fallen,  but  Judah  is  not  free- 
She  hath  but  changed  her  master— yet  her  yoke 
Doth  daily  press  less  heavily,  and  she 
Dares  to  believe  that  Freedom's  keen-edgcd  stroke, 
Which  once  in  Egypt  slavery's  fetters  broke. 
Full  soon  may  fall.     Her  sons  to  honors  rise- 
Jewels  and  gold  adorn  the  purple  cloak 
Which  vests  her  Daniel  with  authorities, 

Andpowcrs,assignedtononebutthosewhommonarchsprize. 


ii* 


34 


THE    CAPTIVITY   IN    BABYLON. 


■       s 
I 


LXVI. 

O'er  six  score  subject  provinces  preside 
As  many  favored  nobles,  over  whom 
Is  placed  a  high  triumvirate,  and  wide 
Its  sway,  and  irreversible  its  doom  ; 
It  holds  the  reins  of  empire,  and  the  room 
Wherein  it  sits,  displays  a  thronging  crew 
Of  summoned  princes,  doffing  helm  and  plume 
Before  its  power,— but  chief  is  honor  due 
To  him,  first  noble  there,— a  captive  and  a  Jew ! 

LXVII. 

But  in  that  chair  of  state  doth  Daniel  meet 
The  meed  that  haunteth  all  of  humble  state, 
By  merit  lifted  to  the  dizzy  seat 

Of  influence  and  honor  : — Envy Hate 

Assumed  Contempt— yet  inward  Dread— await 
Around  his  path  ;  his  rivals,  day  by  day. 
Station  their  spies  around  his  palace  gate, 
And  seek  to  snare  him,  but  his  perfect  way 
Beams,  like  the  virgin  ore,  more  bright  from  the  assay. 


if 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


35 


LXVIII. 

And  therefore  he  must  fall :  his  virtue  shines 
Too  bright,  too  dazzling,  for  their  clouded  eyes, 
And  liis  stern  honor  thwarts  their  base  designs  ; 
He  worsliips  not  their  gods.     The  fact  supplies 
A  ready  path  to  vengeance.     Then  arise 
Fawning  and  cunning  voices  round  the  throne  : 
"  O  King  !  the  good,  the  noble  and  the  wise. 
Have  framed  an  edict,  that  to  thee  alone 
For  thirty  days  shall  prayer  or  suppliant  vow  be  known. 


ssay. 


LXIX. 

"  And  if  to  any  other,  save  to  thee, 
The  voice  of  supj)lication  shall  ascend, 
Then  with  the  lions  let  his  portion  be, 
Who  dares  the  laws  of  Media  to  offend  ; 
That  this  be  'stablished,  let  thy  hand  append 
Thy  seal  and  signature,  that  every  one 
Where'er  thy  mighty  empire  shall  extend, 
May  know  the  royal  will."     The  deed  is  done,— 
And  Media's  laws  change  not,—Daniel,  thy  race  is  run ! 

'0> 


3(J 


THE    CAPTIVITV    IN    BABYLON. 


LXX. 

The  edict  has  gone  forth  :--"  behold  how  smiles 

The  stern  triumvir  as  ho  hears  his  doom  ! 

Let  liim  sneer  on — ho  shall  not  scape  our  wiles, 

But  sink  accursed  witlnn  a  living  tomb  : 

The  sun's  descending  glory  lights  the  room 
Where  stands  our  victim,  but  its  i)arting  ray 
Tomorroio  shall  that  gorgeous  hall  illume, 
And  find  no  Daniel  there  !"— He  kneels  lu  pray, 
Turning  witli  hand  and  eye  far  to  the  VVest^o  away  : 


i 


LXXI. 

Sunrise  is  gilding  Babylon  : — agaiji 
His  foes  assemble  in  the  street  below, 
Watching  M'ith  eager  eye  and  ear,  to  gain 
More  certain  proof  their  victim  to  overthrow ; 
Morn's  balmy  breathings  through  the  casement  flow, 
And  there  again  the  holy  prophet  kneels 
In  calm  yet  deep  devotion,  and  the  glow 
Of  solemn  rapture  lights  his  cheek,  and  seals 
His  brow  with  impress  bright,  which  Truth  alone  reveals. 


I 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON, 


37 


LXXII. 

And  noon  n^riin  beholds  him  with  his  hands 
Expnndcd  wide  towards  the  bright  \Vcst(>rn  skies, 
Where  once  in  uorshij)  from  the  distant  lands, 
The  tribes  went  up  \o  oll'cr  sacrifice  ; 
And  as  to  Ifcaven  his  i)rayers,  like  incense,  rise 
From  the  heart's  altar,  warmed  with  sacred  fire, 
His  dirmon  foes  behold,  with  raj)tiired  eye.^. 
The  proof  which  seals  his  doom  and  gluts  their  ire, 
And  to  the  paJace-gates  wilh  hurried  stc])  retire. 


I 


LXXIII. 

And  Daniel's  crime  before  the  King  is  laid. 
And  judgment  asked  by  laws  which  cannot  fail, 
And  King  Darius,  by  his  haste  betrayed. 
Mourns  with  hot  tears,  which  cannot  now  avail. 
And  sentence  must  go  forth.     Perplexed  and  pale, 
He  bids  his  slaves  the  gloomy  cavern  ope. 
And  whilst  he  strives  his  bitter  grief  to  veil. 
The  fearless  victim  strains  the  gratinf^  rone 
And  to  his  prison  sinks,  dark,  yet  illumed  wilh  hope. 
4  # 


38 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BAIIYLON. 


LXXIV. 

Morning  had  scarcely  streaked  the  Eastern  sky 
With  its  first  hlush,  ore  kneels  the  King  hoforo 
The  hons'  cavern  with  an  anxious  cry : 
"  Servant  of  God  !  can  He  thou  dost  adore 
Save  thee  indeed,  and  still  the  savage  roar 
Of  these  infuriate  monsters  ?"     Then  arose 
The  prophet's  calm  reply—"  He  can  restore 
His  servants,  and  deliverance  work  for  those 
Who  on  His  mercy  trust,  wiiose  innocence  He  knows." 

LXXV. 

In  haste  tlie  joyous  Monarch  bids  his  slaves 
Remove  the  royal  seal,  and  spread  the  gate 
Wide,  which  gave  entrance  to  the  gloomy  caves, 
And    brng  the  prophet  forth,-— that  baffled  Hate 
May  meet  the  fearful  doom  it  had  so  late 
Planned  for  the  innocent ;  and  forth  they  bore 
The  man  of  God  unharmed  :— the  doors  of  fate 
Close  on  his  doomed  accusers,  and  their  gore 
Flows  ere  their  bodies  touch  the  dark,  sepulchral  floor. 


Hi 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    DABYLON. 


39 


vs. 


?) 


LXXVI. 

But  now  from  lionors,  courts  and  cares,  retires 
Tho  holy  man,  to  studies  and  to  prayer  ; 
Age  had  h(!gun  to  quench  his  early  fires. 
For  seventy  years  had  vanished,  since,  a  ftiir, 
A  goodly  child,  his  anxious  mother  hare 
ITis  wearied  limhs  tin-ough  Babel's  thronging  street ; 
And  in  these  latter  days  'twas  his  to  share 
High  converse,  in  his  calm  and  fliir  retreat, 
With  angels  spreading  wide  the  Future's  mystic  sheet. 


ir. 


LXXVII. 

Yea,  many  a  glorious  sight  of  after  things 
Pell  on  his  raptured  eye — he  sa\^  d 

The  Church's  future  glory,  ?>n  1  .  ,,    win<Ts 
Of  angels  and  archangels  (»    i  n..  ]iead 
Flashed  visible  music,  bearing  news  which  bade 
His  aged  heart  expand  ;   from  them  he  knew 
That  seventy  annua!  wecksi^  should  rise  and  fade, 
And  then  should  wake  on  earth's  adoring  view 
Messiah— Saviour— Cod  of  Gentile  and  of  Jew; 


i 


-^mfi>^iilti^,--JM&»i^' 


40 


THE    CAI-TIVITY    I^    BABYLON. 


m''^ 

i; 

Hv' 

md 

W'' 

1 

t 

H* 

TAX  VIII. 

And  thafil.o  long  captivity,  which  he 
And  exiled  Jmlah  l,or,«  in  that  fhr  lan.l 

Forc.hadouod  those  dat-lc  yea..,  ere  n.ln  should  see 
li'alhn.h,  and  .nvatdelivemneeiVom  the  hand 
Of  b^atan  and  of  Sin  ;  the  high  cunmmnd 

Came  r.on,  the  throne  of  (;iory,  and  he  saw 
Those  (ypic  years  were  nnmhered,  and  the"  hand 

or  Jews  oiuv  n.ore  their  ancient  lot  should  draw 
And  n.  tlu.ir  cherished  J.on^e  again  restore  ti.e  Law! 

LXXIX. 

Darius  slec>j,s  where  Media's  nionarehs  sleep, 
111  n.o.uunental  pomp,  a.ul  on  his  throne 
TJie  JVrsian  Cyrus  sits,  his  slate  to  keep, 

And  rule  the  suhjeet  nations,  now  his  own; 
Isaiah's  heaven-taught  pages  had  tbr.^shown 
That  his  shuMl.l  he  the  glory  to  release 
^'onr  .hulah  iVoni  hvv  chains,''^  and  bid  her  groan 
Melt  into  su.iles-her  long  alllietion  eease, 
And  all  her  clouds  disperse  before  die  sun  of  Teacc 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


41 


I 


see 


LXXX. 

And  deeply  in  his  heart  had  sunk  the  word 
Of  prophecy,  and  in  his  ardent  mind 
Deep  thoughts,  like  voices  of  the  tr.mipet,  stirred 
To  nohle  deeds  his  soul,  and  ho  resijrnod 
His  will  to  that  high  destiny  and  sln-incd 
Its  mandates  in  his  heart ;  and,  ere  a  year 
Of  regal  sway  had  left  its  cares  behind, 
Tlie  kingly  proclamation,  far  and  near, 
Had  bade  the  flirthest  bounds  of  that  wide  En.pire  hear. 


LXXXI. 

"  Thus  saith  the  King  :_God  hath  on  me  bestowed 
Power  over  all  Earth's  Kingdoms,  and  hath  bade 
My  hand  establish  His  beloved  abode, 
Where  once  it  stood  in  goodly  show  displayed  ; 
Let  all  whose  vows  to  Israel's  God  are  paid— 
The  ordy  God— to  Judah's  land  return. 
Where'er  among  the  subject  nations  spread, 
And  build  again  the  holy  house,  and  burn 
/license  and  victim  there,  and  there  His  judgments  learn  "lo 
4* 


"yf^ 


"^IWWfcMMKtriUh  m.i.lti«i/(;J4 


42 


THE    CAniVITY   IN   BABYLON. 


I      ' 


i      i| 


■llli 


LXXXII. 

Then  was  tliere  joy  and  gladness  once  again 

In  lliat  long  oxilod  nation  :— Judali  rose 

Bright  n-,.n  the  dust,  where  she  so  long  had  Iain, 

In  oil  her  virgin  beauty,  for  the  woes 
Which  pressed  her  down  now  left  her  to  repose ; 
Then  fron,  her  long  and  troubled  sleep  she  waked 
To  nil  the  light  which  rising  Freedom  throws 
In  genial  streams  to  Karth,  wherein  she  slaked 
Those  hopes  so  long  deferred  with  which  her  heart  had  ached 


LXXXIII. 

Gladness  and  hope  on  every  feainre  glowed, 
As  batid  by  band,  and  tri!>e  by  tribe,  they  pres.ecl 
To  Habers  walls,  by  many  a  distant  road, 
From  town  and  province  long  their  home  of  rest ; 
And,  IS  obedient  to  the  King's  behest 
And  llu  ;..  hearts'  hc.ncvnrd  yean.ing.,  vangd  ,hcy  s.ood 
Oil  Ihal  wide  plain,  il.cii-  faces  to  the  \\'c.,t 
They  turned,  and  .troaniing  tears  their  eheel«  bcdcved. 
Soft  as  tl..c  April  sl,„,ver,  with  notigh,  ef  grief  imbued. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


43 


aclicd. 


T.XXXIV. 

And  fortli  tlicy  v.eiit,  a  glad  and  goodly  train  ;— 
How  far  nidikc  the  molaiiclioly  crew 
W]ii,.h  sovonty  years  Urfmv,  in  toil  and  pain, 
Along  proud  Babel's  streets  their  wailing  threw ; 
That  race  had  well-m-gh  i)as8-.d,  and  these,  a  new 
And  i)roud  assemblage,  turned  tlieir  willing  feet 
To  Judah's  vine -clad  hills,  ,    ,d  deemed  they  drew 
iMore  vigorous  brealh,  as  balmy,  soft  and  sweet. 
The  Western  breeze  fi-Mr,  home  their  raptured  senses  greet. 


I  H 


Stood 


;wc(i. 


LXXXV. 

Yet  Mere  there  some  among  that  joyous  band. 
Who  thro'  long  years  their  treasured  thoughts  could  throw 
Back  ^3  the  scenes  of  childhood,  and  could  stand, 
Tn  memory,  on  the  mount,  whereon  tlie  .rlow 
Of  the  sun  rested  gorgeously,  as  low 
lie  wheeled  his  evening  course,  and  bathed  in  li-ht 
The  Temple's  pinnacles,  and  bade  them  show 
Their  golden  outline,  glittering,  rich  and  bright, 
Far  o'er  the  lower  lands  till  evening  mixed  with  ni-ht. 


If 


m 


11 


^■'  I 


llfli     :, 
III    f 


44 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


LXXXVI. 

And  wlicn  from  gilded  spire?  the  liglit  had  passed, 
Leaving  the  solemn  Temple  all  in  shade, 
It  slept  upon  the  waving  column  vast, 
Which  in  the  calm,  still  twilight,  reared  its  head- 
Smoke  of  the  evening  sacrifice— and  played 
Brightly  around  its  top,  like  that  of  yore, 
Whose  moving  course  their  fathers  had  obeyed, 
When,  toiling  through  the  wilderness,  they  bore 
From  Egypt's  Imted  land  tlieir  tyrant's  cherished  store. 

LXXXVII. 

And  oft  upon  that  homeward  march,  they  told 
Strange  tale;^  of  all  their  childish  eyes  had  viewed 
Within  that  glorious  house— jewels  and  gold. 
And  precious  things,  in  brilliant  order  strewed— 
And  gilded  beams  of  odorous  cedar  wood 
Magnificently  carved,  and  relics  kept 
Within  the  ark,  which  could  not  be  renewed, so 
Whose  sad  destruction  Judah's  sons  had  wept 
Oft  in  their  exile  home,  e'en  whilst  their  children  slept. 


iL 


THE    CAPTIVITY   IW   BABYLON. 


45 


LXXXVIII. 

And  wl.oa  they  told  how  all  that  glorious  pile 
In  ruins  lay,  o'erthrown  and  desolate— 
Mark  for  Samaria's  jibe  and  Gentile's  smile— 
The  home  where  bensts  or  fiercer  robbers  wait- 
Their  aged  eyes  o'erflowed  ;  and  then  they  sate 
On  some  rude  stone,  and  gave  the  rein  to  grief, 
Till  rose  the  thought  that  they  to  reinstate 
That  holy  house  liad  come,  and  soft  relief 
Fell  on  their  troubled  hearts,  and  made  their  mourning  brief 

LXXXIX. 

And  with  renewed  alacrity  they  sped 
Across  the  stony  plains  which  skirt  the  bound 
Of  Araby,  and  thence  the  deserts  spread 

Far  by  the  Malls  of  Tadmor  ;  till  they  found 

Their  feet  ii])on  the  pleasant  vallies  round 

Far-famed  Damascus,  and  the  waters  blue 

Of  Abana  and  Phai-par ;  then  the  mound 

Of  Tabor  glads  their  sid.t,  and  soon  they  knew 
The  ruined  lieaps  of  home  which  rose  upon  their  view. 


f  !' 


46 


THE  CAPTIVITY  IN  BABYLON. 


If: 


xc. 

Nearer  they  came,  till,  by  the  gentle  brook 
Of  Kcdron  pausing,  one,2i  whose  snowy  hair 
Waved  brightly  in  the  sun,  his  station  took 
Before  the  holy  Mount,  and  kneeling  there. 
With  outstretched  hands,  and  revereLd  forehead  bare, 
He  communed  with  his  God,  as  erst  he  prayed 
In  Babylon  his  fervent,  fearless  prayer, 
Though  envious  foes  in  ambush  near  were  laid. 
And  though  the  lions'  den  its  yawning  portals  sprlad. 


XCI. 

Thus  ran  his  supplication  :— "  O,  our  God, 
Who  with  thy  mighty  hand  didst  hither  lead 
Thy  people  from  iEgyptia's  dark  abode. 
From  woes  and  pains  and  cruel  bondage  freed,— 
Hear  us,  O  Lord,— bow  down  thine  car,  and  heed 
Thy  people's  supplications  ;— for  we  know 
That  we  have  sinned,  and  urged,  by  many  a  deed 
Of  deadly  hue,  thy  holy  wrath  to  flow 
On  our  deserving  heads,  with  waves  of  bitter  woe. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


47 


XCII. 

"  But  let  no  more  thy  mighty  anger  burn, 
O  God  of  mercy !     From  thy  holy  seat— 
Thy  chosen  heritage— in  pity  turn 
The  fierceness  of  thy  wrath.     Behold  we  meet 
Bitter  reproach  and  enmity's  fierce  heat 
From  the  surrounding  nations,  and  the  gust 
Of  fiery  persecution  ;  but  repeat 
Thy  favor  as  of  yore,  and  from  the  dust 
Restore  thy  holy  hill,  O  Merciful  and  Just ! 


XCIII. 

"  O,  let  thy  servant's  voice  before  thy  throne 
Meet  blest  acceptance  !     For  thy  mercy's  sake 
Look  with  compassion  on  this  City  lone. 
Which  once  thou  deignd'st  thy  earthly  home  to  make, 
And  from  thy  Temple  and  thy  ahars  take 
The  deep  reproach  by  Heathen  tyrants  brought ; 
Behold  our  desolations,  Lord,  and  break 
The  heavy  chains  of  sorrow,  which  have  wrought 
Anguish  in  every  heart,  and  crushed  each  fondest'thought." 


48 


1/ 
ji ' 


I  I 

V- 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


XCIV. 

The  propliet  ceased  ;  yet  still  he  bent  I.im  there, 
Perchance  in  silent  worsliip  ;  bL.t  he  kneels 
So  long,  so  mute,  so  motionless  in  i)rayer, 
That  each  a  silent  ap])rehcnsion  feels, 
And  oft  a  glance  of  strange  iiup.iry  sieals, 
Yet  fears  to  interrupt  him,  ujilil  02ie, 
At  length,  with  Jiesitating  step,  reveals 
Tiie  half-suspected  truth  ;-]iis  course  is  run- 
Fit  death  for  life  of  prayer-in  worship  sets  his  sun  ! 

xcv. 

And  there,  amid  the  prophets'  sepulchres, 
Daniel  reposes— and  around  him  rise 
The  walls,  rebuilt  by  sad  artificers, 
And  hindered  long  by  cruel  enemies ; 
And  well  the  tears  became  those  aged  eyes,23 
As,  with  the  memories  of  the  past,  they  view 
The  far  diminished  glory  whicli  sujjplies 
Grace  to  that  second  Temple  ;-y,    they  know 
At  least  it  was  their  own,— tiie  Temjle  of  the  Jew. 


11 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


49 


xcvr. 

And  after  years  beheld  a  glory24  fall 
On  that  late  building,  which  surpassed  the  gold 
And  gorgeous  hangi.igs  which  adorned  the  wall, 
The  courts,  the  halls,  the  chambers  of  the  old  ;' 
When  the  long  lapse  of  centuries  had  rolled 
Its  destined  course,  and  to  the  world  revealed 
The  HOLY  ONE,  whom  prophets  had  foretold, 
The  Saviour  of  the  nations,  who  unsealed 
Shadows  and  hidden  types-,  whose  letter  he  repealed. 


XCVII. 

That  second  house  no  Shekinah  could  boast. 
Lighting  the  Mercy  Seat,  and  showing  there' 
The  presence  of  Jehovah  to  the  host^ 
Who  filled  the  courts  with  sacrifice  and  prayer; 
Bat  through  its  halls  and  sculptured  gateways  fair 
Passed,  veiled  in  flesh,  revealed  to  human  eye. 
The  mighty  God  Himself,  who  deigned  to  boar 
The  sorrows  of  His  people,  to  apply 
Balm  to  their  wounds,  and  died  that  they  might  never  die. 


60 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABVLON. 


H 


Pll 


XCVIII. 

And  from  that  meaner  Temple,  to  all  lands, 
Hath  sped  the  word  of  life,  o'er  fertile  plain, 
Decp-tangled  forest,  hot  and  burning  sands, 
And  o\>r  the  wild  and  solitary  main; 
Ilorno  on  by  men  of  faith,  through  toil  and  pain 
And  persecution,  e'en  to  life's  last  hour, 
Au.l  leaving,  when  their  souls  returned  again 
To  Iliin  who  sent  them  forth,  a  richer  dower 
Than  ever  monarch  owned  in  times  of  palmiest  power. 

xcrx. 

And  to  these  shores,  unknown,  when  in  their  day 
Christ's  earliest  heralds  fought  their  holy  fight. 
That  word  of  power  hath  made  resistless  way. 
And  changed  the  moral  darkness  into  light ; 
And  in  its  train,  refined,  ennobled,  brirrht 
By  rays  reflected  from  its  sacred  flame. 
Its  Iiandmaid  Science,  like  the  moon  at  night. 
Shedding  her  silvery  glory,  meekly  came. 
To  aid  that  blessed  power,  which  gave  her  strength  and  fame. 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    BABYLON. 


51 


ne. 


C. 

And  here,  where  late  the  untutored  Savage  trod, 
She  halh  a  scat  to  humanize  the  mind, 
And  hring  its  nohlcst  energies  to  God  ; 
To  draw  its  vigor  forth,  and  tlien  to  hind 
That  vigor,  strengthened,  sanctified,  rcfin'd, 
Down  to  the  noblest  task  tliat  man  can  know, 
The  task  to  hless  and  reconcile  mankind 
To  God's  olFended  justice,  and  to  show 
What  riches  and  what  joys  from  Christ's  atonement  flow. 

CI. 

Go  on  and  prosper  !     From  this  classic  seat 
Let  Truth,  as  from  a  centre,  spread  her  rays, 
Diverging  and  increasing,  till  they  meet 
And  girdle  earth  in  one  wide,  bright  embrace ! 
Onward  their  march,  till  error  finds  no  place 
Wherein  to  hide  ;  till  every  desert  shore 
Bloom  with  the  rose  of  Sharon— until  praise 
Load  the  four  winds  with  melody,  and  pour 
One  universal  song,  to  peal  for  evermore  ! 


52 


THE    CAPTIVITY    IN    EABVLON. 


- 


ru. 

Go  on  and  prosper  !     fiW,  to  „,,th  a  voice 
Of  tru.,|H.t  tono,  till  through  ,he  Eartli  it  sound 
lis  glono„s  echoes,  bidding  man  rejoice, 
Sliakin.  Sin's  high-walled  cities  to  the  ground 
And  bidding  bondage  (nhere  the  mind  is  bound 
By  Sin  and  Error,)  cease  the  Earth  to  tread  ; 
That  man  redeemed,  of  every  race,  be  found 
Like  Judah,  from  tiic  walls  of  Babel  led, 
Pressing  to  tliat  blest  home  wJierc  dwells  their  glorious  Head ! 


I.  I 


NOTES. 


ad ! 


Note  1.    Stan/v   If.     I,,.ve  |. 
Plain  of  Skinar. 

1.  r°.r3o7ir'°"'  i""-?- "' '""  "■•" •""■ "" '""'"  '■  -I  "■■'  ■n.-i., 

5Lt:::;^::L;;i::;r;:i;;f  :;;:■--.--.  ■■  ^  >■".■--> t 

Note  a.    Stanza  IV.     L,ne  1. 
Babijlon  the  mightij, 

bra..  .4,, :: ;,  u  .-i"'^r  [  ^  '""^' '' ""  •^'""  ^""•'  ■■"  -'■-""'» 

itj  oast  o„.i  .too,l  ,h„  o...  I...,,..o  an,l  th.  To.nplo  of  BoluT  ^  v     t  o,  .l'" 

sauatc.  the  now  Pa.ane,  whi,-..  oc..pio.i  nine  o.Uiro  ..u.uo.of  the  C  tv   a      1" 

the  nver  affor.l.ul  u  secret  .■o,n,nu,.i..,.tio„  between  the  two  Palace..    The  Tenn.Io 

r:;:;;:;r::;;;:::;r:;e:r::'i:'^r^-^^^^ 

$.0,000  000      There  were   .„   ,ho  Temple,  l.e.ides    thi.,    two   other  Htatne,     of 
f.     ale  .le„K.,„ly  inferior  in  n,a,ni,u,le  or  value,  which,  togo.hor  wi  h 'tho 
golden  vessels,  table.  „„„  „,ber  .nrni.un,  n.a.le  the  whole  e--  .nate  of  it.      e 

m..nt  o  above  S.OO.OOO.OOO.  H„w  are  the  n.i.hty  .U„o„  -  .  l.abvh.  ,  ho  r, 
of  K.,  don,.,  the  bean.y  of  the  Chaidees-  excellency,  shall  bo  (a„"d  truly  i^)  a. 
When  God  overthrew  .Sodom  and  Gomorrah."  ^ 

5* 


54 


NOTES. 


Note  3.    Ft ,:,-,.,  iv.     l.^^  g. 
WaviniT  garden, 

p'lt:'" ;'":::,;;','::' : t""" ■'"•""'■ " "» '--s 

of  .1,,.  „,,ii,  ,„■  „„.  c.„;  ,'■''■ "-  "'•■"■■ """"-'.  """"I  "1.  ■"  .1.. i»i.i 

^ ... ......  ,.,„  .™.^..:::'i';;: ,::rr:,;;x,::;  -"-'•  ■".•.« 

Note  1.     Stan/a  Vllf.     L.^^  5. 

Till-  stdirs. 

w-^";';:;::::;;:j;:;::;,;::;::';;---^"^  --"...-o.. .... .... ...  ,,„ 

steps  to  ..0  rivor.-/.,..,.!;,:;;!::;;'^^'^'^" '"'''' """  '"■" '"-"  '^ "---  "^ 

Note  5.    St.«za  XIV.     Line,  7  .rvu  8. 

for  hr  went 
f^om  Bubifim  ,10  puriw.ird. 

Jnsppluis.  Anli.|.  n.Hik  X.  rl,.  viii     „■,,<     <c.i 

--- -  '^'  -.....> .!;::;:":::":";;::-;;:;:'::'  '^;  •--'■•";  ^'"^^  -^ 

sent  froa.  Bal,,lon  wIk.u  U,o  cap.ivesar.ivCtlo.  '  "'"'  ""  '^''"''^""•'  ""- 

Note  (5.    HrAr.A  Will.     L,^^  ,j. 

Ma,nj  a  hnhj  ,/,h,sr  /„  ,„„,/,  „„,;  ^,,-^^,  ^,,^.,^ .  ^_ 
ThcBO  wore  (he  two  tahh-n  of  (li,'  l,„v     il„.  „  1 1 

""•"  '"• "'  ^"-  ■'"  '-■ '° '- " ". «.:.:'..;;,::::.:;:',:,:';:■:::: 

Note  7.    Stanza  XXI.     Line  5. 
//(.«  orft/f.«  hrow. 
The  oyo8  of  Zodekiah,  Kin.T  of  I,„i  ,1,   1.,.  1  1 
of  Nc.hucl.„.lncz^,u,  his  chil.i;.  h  ',  ■""  ""'  ""'  "'  ""''"'''  ''^  -"""""d 


NOTES. 


55 


Note  8.     Stanza  XXI.     Line  7. 

The  double  prophcnj, 

_  '«  Thou  Hhnll  not  C8cnpo  out  „r  his  h.in.l,  hut  sh.ll  .urHv  h.  mkon  nn,l  .Inlivorod 
.nto  h,s  hnu.l  ;  nn.l  thin,,  njr.  shall  luM.I  tho  oy.s  of  th.,  K.n,^  oC  H,.l,yh,„,  ,„.,  ,,„ 
shall  sp.uk  with  th.o  n.outh  to  ...outh,  au.l  thou  shall  ,r„  ,.,  Bahylon.^-JoromUh 
xxxiv.  I!. 

"  I  will  hri.,..  hiu,  to  Tlahyl.,.,,  to  tho  lan,l  of  tho  Chai.loans  ;   yet  l,o  shall  not 
BOO  It,  Ihouali  ho  shall  ilio  llicro."— li/.-kiul  xii.  J3. 

Note  9.     Stanza  .\\\I.    Line  1. 

The  hulii  jire, 

Tho  Hncrod  (Ire,  which  ,lo.,-on.l...l  at  tho  .h.li.ation  of  ,l„.  Tompio  by  Solomon 
was  preserved  till  ahoul  tho  heginniug  of  the  Captivity  i„  Dahylon. 

Note   10.     Stanza  XXXL     Line  5. 

The  Urim  and  the  Thummim. 

These  words  siffniPy  Mr.,-  mu,I  p.rjWtun,,,  avA  ,irr  .nentioned  a.  hcinff  in  tho 
ll.Sh  Priest's  hieastplatoi  hut  h  h.„  they  were  ea,  ,,  ■  with  any  eertainty  l.„  do- 
term.ue.l  ;  «ll  that  is  known  ahoul  th,  -a  is,  that  they  were  eonsulled  on  occasions 
ol  great  nu.u.eut,  and  hy  soiuo  u.euus,  in.pus.ihle  to  he  discovered,  gave  an  oracti- 
lar  lejiiy. 

Note  II.     Stanza  XXXIM.     Line  9. 

That.  I'cnj  plain. 

Tho  plain  of  Dura  .t  otehed  ,,w,.,y  W.  of  the  Kuphrute.,  „nd  as  the  temple  of 
Bclu»  lay  on  the  E.  side  of  tho  river,  strictly  speaking,  in  tho  plain  of  Shin,.r  tho 
expression  "  that  very  plain-  is  not  literally  corrocl ;  yet  as  the  two  plains  are  orten 
mentioned  indiscriminately,  when  speakin;'  of  tho  r.-.-ion  aroun.l  llnhylon,  there 
cannot  he  any  great  in,pr..priety  in  laying  tho  «cenc  of  the  confusion  of  "tongues  on 
the  western  sido  of  tho  river. 

Note  1-2.     Stanza  XXXV.     Line  2. 
^  god  of  gold, 

Prohnhly  tho  same  as  that  afterward,  known  a.  tho  Jupiter  Uoiu.,  in  tho  Tcmplo 

of  Dahylon. 


56 


NOTES. 


^ 


Note  13.    Stanza  XLV.    Line  5. 
The  feast. 

i.  IV:  :i'r;,:,;:::',:';"::  ,:::;:::r  °  "r""'^"°"  -^  ■'"'■""""'  '"■•■  •'^«' 

Note  11.     Stanzas  LII.  LIIl.  LIV. 

Sec  Daniel  v.  17—28. 

Note  15     Stanza  LVIII.    LtNE  2. 

llr  hath  turned 
-Aside  Euphrates'  waters. 

An  enormous  lake  of  nl)out  (illy  miloq  i..  r;....    r 
sovcnty-five  foot  .„,.op.  ,.„,  rorn-ori/,      ^  J^  '      t::;*^;;^  ""^'>'  - 

duri„„i..,  annn.I  .>...h.t,  causo.1    ,y  tl.o  n   Iti   .  of  t,  V  ^^'  '"'"  """''• 

Note  1(5.     Stanza  LXX.     Line  9. 
Tu  <Ae  JVcst. 

It  was,  and  still  is,  custoniarv  witli  tiio  T.wu    ,..i,«       «•    • 
tioa.s  i„  „  f„..i„.  ,a„:,.  to  ,..n,  tow    1      '/-;::''  I'/f '7  ""  J'""'  -"P"- 
cordaneo  with  the  Hon.in.ont  oxprc  1    itl        r    "''""'^""^  ''"»--  '"  - 
tion.-I  Kings  viii.  ^-^3  '  "  ""  "'"*"'  "'  ''°'°'"°".  "  '»'0  dcdicu- 

Note  17.    Stanza  LXXVIf.    Line  7. 

Seventy  annual  weeks. 

p».. ...  „„,„ « ,.„  .:;;::.:'r:rj:;v;:::rz::::;;:tr 


NOTES. 


57 


Note  18.     Stanza  LXXIX.    Lines  5,  G,  7. 

Isaiah's  hcavcn.taught  pages  had  foreshown 
That  his  should  hr  the  nl„nj  to  release 
Lone  Judahfrum  her  chains. 

Isuiali  xliv.    28. 

NoTK  19.     SiA.vzA  LXXXI. 

E/ra.     Chap.  i.    o,  3,  4. 

Note  20.     Htanza  LXXXVII.     Line  7. 

Which  could  not  he  renewed. 

Not  only  the  l.oly  things  kept  within  tho  Ark,  hut  tho  Ark  itself,  and  al!  it,  fur 
mturo,  had  boon  lost  during  the  Captivity.     The  second  Te.np.o  w  .  a  , o  1  ^e      ; 
u  ...or  thing,  w.ch  th.  «r.,,  possessed,  viz.  ,he  .hekinah,  or  cloud  of  the  D 
rre.enco-tho  holy  tuo-tho  Urin.  and  Thu.„„,i,„_„.a  tho  apirit  of  Prophecy. 

Note  2L    Stanza  XC.    Line  2. 

One. 

It  is  certain  that  Daniel  lived  till  very  near  tho  end  of  the  Captivity  and  there  ,, 
notlnng  to  r.-nder  his  return  to  Jerusalem  improbable.  There  can,  t  e'reT  e  „o 
Jmpropric'ty  in  introducing  him  here.  "'ereiore,  Do  no 

Note  22.    Stanzas  XCL  XCII.  and  XCIIL 

Daniel  ix.    4—19. 

Note  23.     Stanza  XCV.     Line  5. 

Jind  well  the  tears  became  those  aged  eyes. 

E/ra  iii.     12. 

Note  24.    Stanza  XCVL    Line  J. 

•/i  glory, 

Iliiggtti  ii.     9. 


N 


^^^■BbI 

f. 

1; 

1 

■. 

• 

^^^Hj  t 

«' 

\^^ 


POEMS. 


m 


1 


m. 


POEMS. 


AMERICAN  AxVriQUITIES. 


What  though  they  toll  thee  thou  hast  nought, 
Young  land  of  beauty,  to  bear  back, 

Midst  crumbling  lower  and  fane,  our  thou-ht 
To  Time's  long  hallowed  track,— 

That  thine  antiquity  ben-an 

When  other  lands  were  growing  old 

Thy  name  unwon,  till  Spain's  bold  sou 
Came  to  thy  shores  for  gold  ; 


62 


POEMS. 


IleofI 


not  (I 


'f^  impnkiiioii  i] 


ii'own 


So  rashly  on  t\ 


Each 


'y  i-lsilJ'r   /hllK 


giant  coiio  of  th 


Wiicii  lloi 


"10  was  Jtnowii 


'10  was  hut  u 


name 


E-h  glorious  stream,  n  ,ueh  hoars  its  foam 

1o  the  vast  Ocean's  cloopropose 
Was  known  and  nan.od  hofuro  a  dome 
On  Tyhor's  ha.dvs  arose. 


His  how  J.ath  many  a  >.arrior  bent 
In  duadly  conflict  -  ,he  cliaso 

Whose  long  descent  was  closely  hIo„t 
^V'lfh  Judah's  royal  race  ; 

And  many  a  sage  had  made  :.s  grave 
^>'  ce^^soless  Niagara's  roar, 

E'er  Ccesar's  legions  crossed  the  wave 
To  Albion's  chalky  shore. 


gi'ay, 


What  arc  the  castles'  turrets 

Clothed  with  the  n.oss  of  centuries  ten 
Or  what  the  scenes  of  fierce  aifray  ' 

Between  half-savage  men? 


rOEMS. 


63 


Point  to  thy  l.ills  nnd  rivers  vast, 
Rife  with  the  deeds  of  rrlorv's  day 

Unknown  hecausc  no  muse  hath  shrined 
Their  memories  in  hf-r  lav. 


What  arc  the  pyramids  which  tower 
High  o'er  old  Ejrypt's  sandy  plain, 
Those  altars  to  Ohlivio.i'r?  power, 

Which  Time  has  touched  in  vain  > 
Tliou  too,  if  might  of  praise  redounds 

From  homo  of  death  and  mourning  stone. 
May 'St  boast  thy  mounds -thy  bLn-ial\rrounds 
Of  heroes  long  uidcnown. 


When  Israel's  tribes  were  captive  led 

To  Gozan's  deep  and  distant  tide. 
Far  from  the  oppressor's  hand  they  /led 

O'er  many  a  desert  wide  ; 
And  many  a  foamy  stream  tliey  passed, 
And  many  a  forest  wandered  through, 
And  trod  at  last  the  barriers  vast 
By  Bchring's  waters  blue. 


V  k 


64 


PQEMS. 


But  islands,  since  by  fire,  subch.ccl,* 
In  ceaseless  chain  heforc  ,l,em  I.v 

Ami  o'er  tl.onoo,l  on  rafts  of  wood" 
They  took  t},cir  untried  way, 

And  trod  these  shoros,  bofon'nnt rod 
%  mortal  foot  since  time  heiran  . 

Alone  —  desertrd  l.y  their  (,;od^-_ 
Deserting  tyrant  man. 


An.l  though  full  n.any  an  ancient  rite 
Of  saeriJicial  laws  thr.y  (h.-c, 

Treserved  throu-rh  Km.,',     i 

a"  J'li"!  s   Joomy  night. 

To  this  untrodden  sh,, re, 
Tlioir  end  and  spirit  were  forgot, 

Their  lifeless  forms  they  hdd 'done 
For  they  had  brought  no  .VVV.VZ,, ,„,,,;, 
^Vith  Inspiration's  tone. 


And  thus  they  lost  that  artf  which  bids 
I>'-'liance  to  the  tooth  of  Tinier 


*  Tlio  Fox  Islands,  gome  degrees  S 
of  Volcnnic  action. 

—  The  art  of  VVrilin". 


outli  of  Dehri.ig'g  Strait 


tracts 


POKMS. 

Wl.r.n  mounds  and  cnnnhling  pyramid. 

Forget  the  tale  snhlimc; 
And  tl.o  exciting  dcrd.,  which  Tdiod 

The  space  of  full  tu-<.tI,.H,.,unlv..ars, 
Lie  unn.u...,|.d.  in. hrLucs  scaled, 
^Vhen-  never  ray  ajipeurs. 


65 


Long  else  had  heen  the  scroll  nt'  n.mc 

Thy  storiedMu.se  had  l,M..!,d  down; 

Else  should  thy  l,.uu-,l,<.,H.d  annals  daim 
Antirjuify's  renown. 

Lament  if  not :   j,,  every  age 

Too  long  the  lal.  of  WOPS  and  crimes- 

Would  that  the  sag.  had  /.^Mhe  page 
He  traced  in  ancient  tiint-^! 


^Lippy,     iliistoiif'd,  art  thou, 

Happy,  n,t  thought  may  soar  away 

^^'^'''''  "M'        .V      !f.  her  how 

Transpired  th.  ,|;^.  _ 

Iniagination  paints  uith  hues 

Morr  fair  than  Truth-old  artist  stern- 
Cettcr  the  deeds  of  old  to  lose, 

Tlian  blush  the  tale  to  learn. 


1 


G(> 


Poems. 


MEMORY 


"Onorlonri,lo.w,.,l.ono,Ii„,|„    ,„„„,j 
Ily  rnoinory',  ,„agi.  lot.  i„  „„  ,„„  ,,,^  „ 


MOORI 


I 


If 


How  finely  memory's  cl.ords  are  strun.f 

The  slightest  lo„H.  will  wake  a  strain 
Which  long  ago  our  childhood  sunrr, 
But  hath  not  wakened  since  again': 
Some  far-o<r  music  fuimly  caught, 
Rouses  the  energies  of  thought" 
And  hack  upon  the  soul  return 

Scenes,  forms  and  faces  loi,g  forgot, 
Kind  wonls  that  ha.le  the  hosom  burn,' 
And  looks  of  Love  which  ehai.gefh'not, 
Connected,  how  we  know  not  well, 
With  that  faint  music's  magic  swell. 


POEMS. 

I. sat  .1  lazy  ],iYK,k  ]u's\,h-, 

Markin.;  ifs  slou  and  mI,.,u  u,],.. 
it  passnl  ,1.,  ,,,,,  „,,,  ^,,^,„  ,,,^^  ^,^.^^j^,^ 

«carco  ri,,,,|,,Ml  l,y  tin,  knottod  limb 
Which  lay  across  its  course,  an.l  ,na.l.. 
A  barrier  to  its  waters  .li|,,,__ 

Tl.OMwitI,  a  l.M.n  an.l  i^rontlc  sweep 
TJn.Migj,  level  lieMs  if  lu.|,l  its  way, 

Tili<l<.wnar|,asin.larkand  .1.  ep 
I'  \'  nislied  with  a  sudden  lea]), 

Studding  the  rucks  with  silver  spray. 

All,  all  was  snanue,  1  soucr|,t  i„  vain 
i^'inhlancc  to  some  fann'liar  scene; 
The  link  was  gone  iVoin  nx'Hiory's  ciiaiii, 
Severed  the  aol.len  thread  between 
Prese.u  and  I'ast,  which  shoubl  convey 
The  electric  flash  ..f  ih.,iia|„  ^^^y.^y 
To  distant  points  of  joy  or  tears, 

Made  faint  and  fainter  day  by  day 
By  the  still  thickening  veil  of  years. 


67 


I  sat  beside  that  laxy  brook, 
Tracing  tiie  devious  track  it  took, 


it 


p 
if  > 


68 


POEMS. 

And  fancied  in  my  waking  <lronm 
I  looked  on  Life's  symbolic  stream; 
Gentle  and  weak,  but  |)ur(>,  at  first, 

TiCaviniT  with  smiles  the  fosferinii  breast. 
Where  hjng  and  fojully  it  was  nursed, 
Till,  far  beyond  that  home  of  rest, 
It  mingled  with  the  grosser  tide, 
%  numy  a  distant  source  supplied  ; 
Tn  fidlcr  strength  and  inHucnce  wide, 

But  lower,  level  'ban  before. 
Sweeping  along  in  stately  pride, 
r>ut  dcekiMl  with  purity  no  more; 

Its  surface  wreatb(>d  with  smiles  and  Told. 
Its  breast  beneath  foul,  dark  and  cold. 

As  thus  I  mused,  beneath  mine  eye 
A  mimic  vessel  floated  by  ; 
TIk;  iuill,  a  chij) ;  the  inast,  a  rov^\ ; 
A  strip  of  bark  sui)piied  the  sail; 
The  streaming  flag,  a  water  weed  ; 
The  precious  load,  n  rusty  nail ; 

That  poor  device  of  childhood's  play. 
To  cheat  the  lagging  hours  away, 


i 

i 


t 


POEMS. 

Gave  the  lost  link  to  IVfcMiinry's  chain, 
And  when  I  raised  mine  eyes  ntruiii 
The  scene  had  cluuigcd  ;  hcforo  mo  spivad 
The  fields  in  recognition  smiled, 
The  Iroo  ahovc  nu;  scf-nHMl  to  shed 
Tho  very  leaves  npon  my  head 
It  showered  aronn<l  me  when  a  (diild  ; 
The  twisted  lind)  which  swept  iIk^  tide, 

Brought  visions  crowding  on  mv  hrain 
Of  chip-huals  caught  hy  ed.^ies  wid(>, 
Deprived  of  mast,  sail,  pennon,  vane, 
I5y  hending  twig  or  hanging  hough  ; 
And  so  perchance  the  urehins  now, 
Who  play  around  this  grassy  hriidv. 
Behold  their  hoj)cs  and  vessels  sink. 


69 


» 

i 


So  small  the  links  that  form  the  chain 

Which  hinds  the  Present  to  the  Past; 
So  weh-like  are  the  cIk.hIs  we  strain 
hi  iliought  across  the  i.uMvnl  vast 
in'  rolling  years  to  scenes  heyond, 
A  slender,  hut  a  mighty  hond. 
Like  frail  AI  Sirat,  which  snpi)lies 
The  Moslem's  path  to  Paradise. 


t 


70 


POEMS. 


If 

f 


THE  I^LAY-GROUND  REVISITED. 


Another  troo,  and  yet  tho  snme, 

RouikI  which  in  hoylioofr.s  hour  I  played, 
Witness?  of  many  an  anxious  game, 

Contested  in  its  giajit  shade ; 
Beneath  /Ms  branch  tho  ring  was  made, 

ILrr  wa.  fho  lino  for  "  knuckhng  down," 
On  yondor  knarly  root  were  laitl 

Superfluous  jackets,  blue  and  brown, 
And  caps,  that  on  each  curly  crown 

Were  seldom  seen,  save  wIk  ..  uv  went 
Sworded  and  fcalhercd  throuLrii  tho  town, 

On  deeds  of  desperate  knighthood  bent: 
And  when,  with  Plcasin-o's  labor  spent, 

Brief  rest  we  sought  in  Summer's  heat, 
Yon  shady  bench  it^;  re fi lire  lent; 
E  en  now  uj»ijii  us  mouldcrinf'  scat. 


I 


POEiMS. 


71 


I 


1^ 


With  feelings  deep  nn.l  strnngoly  sweet, 
Full  many  a  udl  remembered  humc 
In  rudest  letters  carved  1  greet.— 

Wc  yearn  — how  early!  after  Fame- 
Alas!  of  all  who  joined  our  game 

^Vl.en  those  young  names  were  graved,  how  few 
Siiice  have  I  seon,  or  i.ow  may  elaim 

Our  boyish  friendsjiips  to  renew. 
O'er  some  of  that  once  merry  crew 

The  grave  has  closed,  o'er  some  the  Sea, 
Some  to  their  hc^nes  have  ba.le  adieu 

For  years,  j)(,'rchance  eternally  ; 
And'somo  who  stood  around  that  tree 
^  Happy  with  childhood's  careless  play, 
From  vice  and  sensual  iudumce  free, 
Have  thrown  tlwir  innocence  away, 
I"  vain  pursuits  grown  early  gray ; 

In  look  deformed,  in  soul  and  mind 
Degraded  by  the  sins  that  prey 
I'i>on  the  vitals  of  in.mkind. 
O!   nould  they  east  a  look  bohind 
To  this  old  ,re.>,  and  think  how  fair, 

From  (Juilt's  dark  inlhtenccdisentwincd, 
Tljeir  liours  of  early  boyliood  M'ore, 


72 


POEMS. 


Pcrcl.anco  they  yet  might  breathe  a  prayer 

To  bo  from  Folly  free  again, 
To  fly  from  Plc-usurc's  dangci   .,s  siiarc, 

And  break  the  links  of  Passion's  chain. 


O !  Joy  is  ever  mixed  with  Pain 

lii  this  strange  world.— I  cannot  think 
Of  those  who  joined  our  merry  train 
In  former  years,  but  I  must  shrink 
From  following  Memory's  golden  link 
When  to  the  Lost  my  mind  it  leads : 
I  came  i„  this,, Id  nell  to  drink 

Refresiiing  draughls,~and  lo  !  the  seeds 
Of  bitter  memories  grow  to  weeds 
Upon  its  waters. — 


f 


^  cf  die  spring 
Is  not  a/l  filled  with  slimy  reeds  ;— 

Flowers  of  ricli  Imes  and  odors  cling 
Around  its  marge,  and  they  shall  lling 

Pleasure  so  sweet  upoji  my  sense, 
That  the  (ond  thoughts  and  hopes  they  brin 

Shall  drive  all  painful  memories  thence. 


POEMS. 


73 


BY.CONE  DAYS. 


lhn\-  ihj  tlie  mists  of  Memory  dress 
Our  chiklhood's  scenes  in  loveliness! 
How  through  the  vistus  of  the  past 

Our  thoujrhts  uill  u;m(l(.r,  and  forgot 
The  clouds  above  the  present  cast, 
AVhilo  Fancy  paints  the  fair  vignette 
^Vliich  staiids  npon  Life's  title-page 
^Vith  JHies  which  glad  the  eye  of  ago; 
Hues  which  in  truth  it  never  won;, 

Hut  which  to  chddhood's  joyous  eye 
ft  sceajcd  to  wear  in  .lays  of  yore, 
And  after  life  woidd  fain  believe, 
Despite  of  cold  philosophy. 

That  Fancy  fhcrr  could  not  deceive. 
7 


^^ 


74 


POEMS. 


How  oft  before  my  mental  siglit, 
Dressed  in  such  robes  of  fiiirv  b'^rht 
Comes  up  the  rude  and  njcky  sj.oro 
My  infant  footsteps  wandered  o'er. 
The  crescent  beacli  along  whose  marge 

The  waters  of  tl»e  ebbing  tide 
I'heir  freight  of  weeds  and  foam  discharcre. 
Where  tiny  billows  curl  and  broak, 
Leaving  a  soft  and  snowy  streak, 
The  limits  of  two  Empires  wide  ; 
The  frowning  clj/fs  on  cither  side 
With  bases  buried  in  the  beach, 
Like  giant  arms  extended,  reach 
Far  out  where  stormy  billows  ride 
And  btdfet  with  the  wilder  waves 
That  roar  around  their  echoing  caves. 
W'hile  the  blue  water  sleeps  between 
Those  rocky  barriers  all  serene, 
A  little  bay  whose  soft  rejjose 
Seldom  and  slight  disturbance  knows. 
How  oft  across  that  placid  bay 

Hath  danced  my  Lilliputian  barque, 
And  as  it  swiftly  sped  away 

Mine  anxious  eyes  its  course  would  mark, 


pr^pl 


POEMS. 
Now  brirrht  with  joy  to  SCO  it  bniVG 

Some  rippio  wl,icl,  I  deemed  a  wave  ; 
Now  dim  with  terror  as  its  mast 
Bent  to  some  overpowering  blast, 
Whicli  soarco  .listtirbed  tlie  thistle  down, 
Or  shook  the  poppy's  silken  crown. 

No  mercliant  marked  with  greater  gleo 
His  gallant,  gold  tilled  argosy 

Press  home,  her  voyage  of  peril  done, 
Tiian  I,  when  o'er  the  mighty  tide, 
S:retching  full  fifty  fathoms  wide, 

My-six  inch  ship  lier  course  ha.l  run. 

And  struck  with  leaden  keol  the  sand 
WJiich  formed  the  "make  believe"  fur-iand. 

Those  flays  have  passed,  and  many  a  year 

llath  vanished  since  that  beach  [  prest. 
But  still   in  memory\s  eye  as  clear. 
As  though  but  yesterday  I  drest, 
Sweet  sister !  aided  well  by  thee,— 
My  ship  in  muslin  sails,  and  made 
My  blocks  of  cork,  my  ropes  of  thread, 
And  sent  her  o'er  the  mimic  sea. 


76 


I 


76 


POEMS. 


1/  '     i 


Each  cavern  there,  each  stock  and  stone 

Th-ighfly  on  me.nory's  vision  ^rlow, 
Like  old  ac(inai,„anco  kindly  known! 
•All  !  easier  task  Ihose  rocks  to  know 
Than  face  of  fn.Mids  seen  lung  ago. 
The  cavern  and  the  rock  are  there, 
The  very  same  they  over  were, 
But  those  who  watched  my  infant  play, 
Oh,tell,ne7./.ov:and  Wm/arctheyp' 

Vanished  or  changed-and  I  should  be 
As  changed  to  them  as  they  to  me. 


POEMS. 


rt 


NJAG'AKA. 

Describe  Niagara  f-Ah,  who  shall  dare 
Attempt  th(.  indcscrihahle,  and  train 
Thoughfs  fVa.ilo  wing  to  skin,  the  heavy  air, 
Wet  with  tho  cataract's  incessant  rain? 
The  glowing- muse  onir,.;'i„voI<M  in  vain 

By  Shaksp,.an,  who  shall  hu,H.  fVom  Heav..n  to  win? 
And  -  hurning  words"  alone  become  the  strain, 
Which  to  the  nnnd  wonld  hring  the  awful  din 
Where  seas  in  thunder  iall,  and  cddyit>g  oceans  spin. 

Long  hau  the  savage  on  thy  glorious  shroud 
I^nngM  with  vast  fban.  wreaths,  ga.M  with  stoic  eye 
And  deemed  that  on  thy  rising  rainbow  eloud 
The  wings  of  the  (Jreat  Spirit  hovered  nigh. 
And,  as  he  marked  the  solemn  woods  repL 
7# 


78 


POKMS. 


InrH,o..,o,I,v,.olli„.,|„„„,,.,,^,,^^ 

And  h,s  I.,.,,,  bouocl-f;,,.,..,,,..!,..,,  .,:,„. 
Known. 

iJiit  ngr.s  passed  au'ny-~a„d  to  li,.  W.-sf 

Ca.uo  K„rop.'«  sons  to  sock  for  n.MH.  or  .old 
And  one,  ,>orcd.n„,...  , ^i.nn.  ,1.,.  .Ikmvs, 

^''"'•'^ ''''•'•'-'•""• '--....ones, old    ' 

%i".lMn.nn.l<.o,oc<.an.sdounu;.n|  rolled 
Felt  on  his  .luold.ing  ear  fl.y  ,:,,.„„•  ,,,„. 

Then  sped  ,h,.,n.g|,fy  wonder  to  l-liold,' 
,    '^V  voice  around  him  ;,n,l,|,y,',ud  h..,.,,., 

Tillbrcaih.'ess—tp  mlilui       ,     i  ..       ' 

"'"""o->aj,t-he  trod  thy  foaniingshore. 

Upward  he  gazed  to  where,  with  lu.L.us  hi.s, 

Tliy  waters  s,,,un  the  preeipicf ,  nud  !enp 

I"t..lhe  ve.v,.dandin.h'stin.iahs. 

Where  Jiag.-  and  Tun.ult  c-easeless  battle  keep, 
Filling,  with  roar  monotonous  and  deep. 
The  weaned  eeho  ;_,here  he  lixed  his  gaze, 
hlkr.  on.  entranced  who  (^ars  ,o  h.vak  L  sleep 
Lest  the  wild  vision  fade  that  sl...p  doth  rais. 

All  .houghtloekN,,.p..,,H.iuNlu.  stern  and  strange  amaze. 


Por:vTS. 


79 


Tii;,  vIowIn  rnllyiriL'  from  flir  first  surprize, 
Thoiitihi  fruiii  it    MiMgin  prison  bronks  at  last,— 
The  trazor  from  tlio  foam-vvliirl  litis  his  -  v,.s 
And  scans  tliv  \vli..l..  .-in     i  \u|,|  ,.,,„1  , 

^■''■'""  I'"""       1 '  '■    ^  t-agt:r  glances  cast, 

Tukr  l,\  degrees  thy  wide  cireiimfereTice  in, 
And  ;i    liU  speeclil.       uuider  slowly  j)ass.  d, 
Delight  succeed.    .  deep,  intense  and  keen, 
Heart,  soul  and  sense  ahsorhe.l  in  lh;il  unrivalled  scei 

''"!'""  ilin.ii-j,  JiisM.ind  Jik."  li-hlning  Hashed  the  thought, 

<)ii-'<'  .M  ,•  t|„.  |»;,;,i;,ivlrs  s(,ul  iu  llrth.'l  thrown, 

'"'■^^^      '•'""  i>  \\iili  Hi    .  and  I  knew  it  not," 

1  1:!-^  power  in  yor  uiaifsiic  /one 

Of     iMJi",   waicis,  and  its  iliundf  r  iono 

Ih'Uigs  !(.  nnnr  car  I  lis  voice— and  deeply  felt. 

And  alniosi  seen  His  I'nscnce  reigns  alone. 

'J'hcn  meekly  liy  the  rock  the  wanderer  knelt. 
Feeling  in  awe  and  lovt:  his  heart's  full  fountain  melt. 


And  long  with  slwuled  eye  and  hended  liead 
Ho  prayed  before  that  Temple's  wond'rous  veil. 
Whilst  from  its  foot,  in  ceaseless  eddies  spread, 
The  mist-cloud  rose,  hke  incense,  on  th(;  gale  ; 


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80 


POEMS. 


And  half  he  deemed  that  on  its  pinions  frail 
His  prayers,  upborne,  ^voald  blessed  acceptance  know ; 
He  rose  with  gladdened  eye  and  heart  to  hail 
Mercy's  fair  type  and  seal,  the  rainbow's  glow 
Spanning  with  calm  embrace  the  troubled  scene  below. 


And  when  the  westering  day-beam  warned  him  back, 
Lingering  he  stood,  as  spell-bound  by  the  strain, 
And  oft  he  started  on  his  homeward  track. 
And  oft  returned  one  parting  glance  to  gain ; 
And  twilight  had  usurped  its  fitful  rei^^n 
Ere  to  thy  foam  his  last  farewell  he  bade. 
Then  like  an  arrow,  o'er  the  woody  plain 
Homeward  he  hurried  through  the  deepening  sliade, 
Again  in  dreams  to  view  thy  wonders  round  him  spread. 

And  oft  alone,  and  oft  with  friends  he  came 
To  scan  thy  charms,  and  worship  at  thy  shrine, 
And  feel  again  devotion's  hallowed  flame 
Blaze  in  thy  presence  fanned  with  breath  divine  : 
And  oft  from  morning  until  day's  decline 
He  sat  and  mused  beside  thee,  for  his  eye 
Saw  nowhere  majesty  and  grace  like  thine ; 
And  in  his  soul  thy  mighty  minstrelsy 
Woke  stern  and  glorious  thoughts,  and  visions  wild  and  high. 


\, 


le  know ; 


elow. 
back, 


POEMS. 

In  silence  long  forgot  the  wanderer  sleeps ; — 
But  still  as  when  thou  met'st  his  startled  faze. 
Thy  glorious  scene  the  heart  in  wonder  steeps 
Of  him  who  seeks  thee  in  these  later  days  : — 
Sublime  in  simple  grandeur !  Art  can  raise 
No  rival  to  thy  throne,  nor  words  convey 
Thine  image  to  the  mind,  tliough  noblest  lays 
Have  vied  in  thy  description. — Day  by  day 
Thy  roar  shall  si)cak  of  God  till  Nature  fade  away. 


81 


idc, 
read. 


d  high. 


'■>w'- 


I     I 


82 


rOEBIS. 


Ill 


ATHENS. 

City  of  Gods  and  heroes  !  In  the  dust 

The  foot  of  Time— the  tyrant  and  the  slave, 
Have  trodden  down  tliy  glory,  and  the  grave 
Holds  all  thy  greatness  ;— the  corroding  rust 
Of  centuries  has  bid  the  record  pass 
From  sculptured  marble  and  memorial  brass ; 
The  hundred  columns  of  thy  Parthenon 
Were  all  too  few  the  massive  roof  to  bear 
And  undisturbed  the  birds  and  summer  air 
Find  passage,  where,  disjointed  one  by  one, 
Pillar  and  portico  the  Earth  have  strewed, 
Like  ancient  trees  in  forest  solitude. 


POEMS. 


83 


The  wingless  Victory,  ia  thino  hour  of  pride 

Enshrined  and  chained,  ,!:at  she  may  never  leave 
Her  seat,  in  the  Acropolis,  nor  give 
Her  smiles  to  thine  antagonist,  has  died  :— 
Unwinged  and  bound,  Jike  Lovo,  her  life  must  end, 
She  could  not  Hce,  and  thon  couhlst  not  detbnd, 
And  o'er  her  grave,  deserted  by  thy  sons, 

OA  hath  the  fb.man's  shout  of  triun.pb  rolled, 
And  bondsmen's  slaves  have  given  f..r  strangers'  .old 
The  sculpture  fron.  her  slnine,  which  barbarous  H^ns, 
Less  classic,  but  therein  more  truly  kiad. 
Left  in  their  desolating  march  behind. 


ive, 
'ave 

it 


V/ell  could  thy  Pericles  design,  and  well 
Thy  Phidias  execute  ;   but  how  the  rush 
Of  Time  and  War  ..nd  Ignorance  may  crush 
Genius  and  Taste,  thy  ruined  towers  may  tell. 
The  torch  of  Attila,— the  iron  shower 
Of  Venice,-and  the  Moslen^s  grinding  power 
Have  cursed  thee  in  their  turn  ;  and  from  thy  brow 
Have  crumbled  one  by  one  the  ])recious  things 
Which  Art  designed  to  give  thy  glory  wings  '^ 
Wherewith  to  fly  o'er  Earth  ;_behold  them  now 
Spurned  by  base  feet,  or  borne  across  the  sea 
To  lands  unknown  to  fame  when  thou  wort  free. 


84 


e 


POEMS. 

The  works  of  man,  erected  for  renown, 
Arc  fallen  or  falling,— but  llie  hills  remain 
Around  thee,  reared  by  (Jod,  and  shall  retain 
Those  names,  which  wee  the  jewels  of  thy  crown, 
When  time  hath  broken  every  chiselled  stone, 
And  scarce  their  sites  and  stations  shall  be  known. 
The  mount  of  Mars  no  mark  of  ruin  shows— 
Cithffiron  is  yet  Ijeautiful- tlic  liill 
Of  Pynx  arises  in  its  glory  still — 
Still  on  Ilyraettus  evening's  radiance  ,<t1ows 
And  marks  no  change,  though  many  a  goodly  wall. 
Dug  from  its  quarries,  trembles  to  its  fall. 

Thou  hast  been  long  degraded,  but  thy  night 
At  length  beholds  a  dawn,  and  o'er  the  plains 
Where  late  raged  Anarchy,  niild  Order  reigns, 

And  Law  and  Justice  shed  their  equal  lirrbt : 

And  a  New  World,  whieh  had  received  no  name 
Till  many  a  century  since  thy  day  of  fame. 
Sends  her  enlightened  heralds  to  unbind 

The  veil  of  Ignorance  which  wrai)s  thy  heart. 
Thou  once  proud  fount  of  Knowledge  and  of  Art, 
And  to  relight  within  thy  darkened  mind 
The  lamp  of  holy  truth,  that  thou  arain 
May'st  hold  thy  station  in  the  ranks  of  men. 


POEMS, 


85 


main 
I  retain 
tliy  crown, 
stone, 
->e  knuwn. 
ws — 


)0{lly  wall. 


ght 

plains 
reigns, 

.1 

It:— 

1 

0  name 

e, 

heart. 

id  of  Art, 

SPRING. 

Clouds  of  the  mountain 
And  mist  of  the  plain, 
Spray  of  the  fountain 

And  foam  of  the  main. 
Flee  from  yom-  station 

On  pinions  of  air. 
The  face  of  creation 
No  shadow  shall  wear. 

Bright  from  the  Ocean, 

O  day-star,  arise  ! 
Speed  thy  glad  motion 

Along  the  blue  skies  ! 
Scatter  thy  glory 

On  valley  and  lea, 
On  mountain  top  hoary-, 

On  streamlet  and  tree. 


n. 


8 


86 


TO  EMS. 


Leap  from  your  s!iim])er, 

Yo  flowrets,  in  mirth, 
Deck  without  iiumhor 

The  bosom  of  Ejirtli  ; 
Give  out  your  treasiu-o 

Of  odors  and  hues; 
Stint  not  the  measure 

Of  joy  ye  ililfuse. 


Nature  rejoic(\s ; 

Ye  birds  of  the  grove, 
Tour  out  your  voices 

Of  music  and  love  ; 
Stretch  forth  your  pinions, 

iour  i)himage  renew 
Air's  broad  dominions 

Are  open  for  you. 


1^ 


Swift  flowing  rivers 
Are  open  again  ; 

Soft  Spring  delivers 
From  fetters  the  main  ; 


POKMS. 


Glad  fins  arc  lasliing 
Tlio  l)illo\vs  in  j>lay — 

Brifrht  scales  arc  flashing 

o 

In  Streamlet  and  Ijay. 


87 


'S 


Forests  arc  sliowinj 
Oi'Qon  mantles  again — 

Verdun;  is  glowinnf 
O'er  valley  and  ])lain  ; 

Labor  is  uuidinf 

The  plough-share  in  toil, 
Safely  confidinn- 
The  seed  to  the  soil. 


'g 


Soft  brec7,es  hreathinj 

From  climates  serene 
Where  s])ice-flo\vers  wroathin"- 

Their  tendrils  are  seen, 
Float  rich  and  balmy 

O'er  Nature's  l)road  breast, 
And,  whispering  calmly, 

Hush  sorrow  to  rest. 


88 


POEMS. 


-Rejoice  thoc,  O  mortal, 

In  spring's  gentle  noon, 
death's  gloomy  portal 

Shall  open  full  soon— 
And  hallow  lifo's  mornin.T 

To  life's  holy  King, 
And  Death's  wintry  warning 

No  terrors  shall  brin.r. 


POEJIS. 


89 


T(^  A  CLOUD. 


Fleecy  cluud,  1  cmy  llico, 

Soft  ;iii(l  white-rohrd  \v;iii.l..nji-  there 
O'er  ;i  pure  aiid  sil./u!  .<.,..a, 

Lonely,  ])assi()iil(\<s  and  fair; 
Wlio  uii  Earth  wouhl  pine  imbk-st, 

Mi\  with  rage  and  strive  witli  care, 
Coidd  lie  fly  and  be  at  rest 

la  thy  hunie  of  boundless  air? 

On  thy  free  and  gentle  course 

What  hast  thou  to  fear  or  shun  ? 

Even  though  the  l-  u.pest  hoarse 

Howl  when  darkness  has  be«-un, 
*8  ° 


90 


POEMS. 


m 


p 


Thou  upofi  his  steeds  can'st  sit, 
Safe  as  when  the  evening  sun 
Hath  thy  rjuiet  pathway  lit 
To  tlic  coining  twilight  dun. 

Though  the  kecn-cdged  hghtning's  spear 

Through  thy  form  a  passage  fiiid, 
Soon  the  wound  shall  disappear, 

Leaving  not  a  pang  hdiind. 
Who  the  pains  of  Earth  can  hear, 

Pains  of  hody  and  of  niind, 
Nor  hetray  the  aching  care 

Whicli  around  his  heart  hath  twined  ? 

Thou  canst  look  on  all  below 

From  thy  high  and  holy  seat- 
Smile  at  nations'  overthrow. 

Caused  by  man's  unbridled  heat— 
Mark  the  tide  of  human  thinirs 

O'er  their  ancient  barriers  beat— 
And  expand  unru/Ilcd  winrrg 

Where  the  storms  of  passion  meet. 


'k^ 


sprar 


POEMS. 

Man  their  changes  t(H>  may  rnnrk  — 

Man  may  hattic  with  th.'ir  wave— 
I^iit  amid  the  tumiilf  dark 

Nought  he  finds  that  man  should  crave ; 
He  may  mix  anu'd  the  fray, 

Now  to  cheer  and  tunv  to  save, 
But  he  bears  at  best  away 

Broken  heart  or  troubled  "rave. 


01 


cd? 


Oh  I  to  spend  with  thee  on  hi<rh. 

Lovely  cloud,  a  sinless  day. 
In  the  free  and  holy  sky, 

Far  from  care  and  strife  away. 
Hold  !  the  wish  were  imj)i,jus,  vain  ;- 

Ratlier  wliile  on  Ivinh  we  stay. 
Strive  its  tumults  to  restrain 

Strive  its  sorrows  to  allay. 

Then  when  life\s  brief  sun  hatli  gone 
Downward  to  its  evening  dose, 

If  Religion's  Jiand  hath  drawn 
(^lory  round  its  soft  repose, 


92 


POEMS. 


Far  above  tliy  home  sliall  rise, 
Free  tlie  soul  from  fears  and  foes 

AiKi  from  j)urcr,  holier  skies, 
Pitying  look  on  Jiumaii  woes. 


If 
n 


Then,  than  thou  more  highly  blest, 

Far  its  chainless  M'ings  shall  sail, 
Where  no  storm  shall  mar  its  rest, 

No  (lark  shades  its  beauty  veil ; 
But  arouud  its  sinless  breast. 

Light,  whose  glories  eannot  foil, 
Still  shall  tloat  a  fodeless  vest. 

Where  the  Sun  himself  >vere  pale. 


m     ; 

'1    -I 

IS         ' 


l! 


Poems. 


93 


RIZPAII. 


The  love  of  woman !  what  a  deep 
And  fixed  devotion  marks  h^-  love  ! 
Billows  may  rage,  and  whirlwinds  sweep, 
But  they  are  powerless  to  remove 
That  rooted  principle — her  breast 

Seems  with  its  influence  all  possest 

In  her  it  hath  a  mighty  j)ower, 

Force  cannot  quench  nor  terror  tame 

Slumber  it  may  in  joyous  hour, 
But  blazes  with  redoubled  flame 
When  foes  invade  or  sorrows  frown, 
Or  sufiering  seeks  its  light  to  drown— 
It  trembles  to  the  sligiitest  breath, 
But  conquers  agony  and  death. 


M 


rOEMS. 


^1 


^11 , 

H  I 


i«i 


A  female  form,  with  hair  unbound, 
And  Jiaggard  eye  with  famine  rlim, 
And  siuiken  cheek  and  wasted  h-nih, 

Sits  houseless  on  the  chilly  ground,' 
Her  tliin  hands  clasped  upon  },cr  knee, 
Her  head  the  rock's  hard  pillow  presse's, 
Whoso  points,  despite  her  aniplc  tresses,' 
Her  fair  hrow  lacerate--but  she 
Feels  not  the  agony  they  bring. 
For  deeper  woes  her  bosom  wring— 
The  body's  i^angs  how  light  and  v'lin, 
Compared  with  that  intenser  pain 
Wliich  numbs  the  heart  and  burns  tlie  brain! 

Who  are  the  sleepers  scattered  round, 
On  whom  her  anxious  looks  repose  ? 
Her  (pn'ek  ear,  quickened  by  her  woes, 
Hath  caught  from  far  the  whirring  sound 
Of  night  birds'  wings,  and  uj)  she'springs 
To  scai-e  them  from  the  sleepers'  bed— ° 
The  jackall's  cry  is  sounding  nigh. 
The  panther  steals  with  silent  tread- 
He  cannot  shun  that  watchful  eye, 
W^iich  through  the  long  night  slumbers  never- 


■^ 


in! 


POEMS. 

The  surly  bc-or  goes  prowl in^r  by, 
But  dierc  k  ;   i.    who  guards  the  way 
Between  him  and  his  destined  prey, 
Frail,  faint  and  sad,  but  dauntless  ever! 
The  savage  monsters  shrink  away 
From  those  wild  eyes  unearthly  ray, 
They  Oee  tiie  gesture  of  that  hand, 
That  hollow  voice's  stern  command — 
The  majesty  of  love  is  there 
The  strength  of  weakness,  and  the  power 
To  do,  to  suffer,  and  to  dare, 
The  high  soul,  nerved  l)y  .lark  despair, 
Gives  the  frail  arm  in  trial's  hour. 


95 


The  sun  upon  her  sleepless  eye 
Rises  in  cloudless  brilliancy — 
But  rouses  not  that  slumbering  band, 

The  objects  of  her  ceaseless  care 

Why  wake  they  not  to  greet  his  rays  ? 
The  breeze  of  morning,  soft  and  bland, 
Lifts  their  long  hair,  and  fluttering  plays 
Among  their  vesture— doth  it  there 
For  them  no  joyous  influence  bear  ? 


r — 


96 


i 


1 1 
M 


POEMS. 

Nor  summer's  sun,  nor  summer's  air 
Shall  glad  their  eye  or  warm  their  cheek- 
Those  livid  features  once  were  fair- 
Fondly  those  blood-sealed  lips  could  speak 
Once  to  that  lovely  watcher— now 
Death's  signet  is  upon  their  brow, 
The  bloated  worm  and  foul  decay 
Have  banquet  held  for  many  a  day 
Within  their  long  insensate  clay- 
But  she,  whose  fond  maternal  breast 
Once  formed  the  pillow  of  their  rest. 
For  weeks  unwearied  and  alone 
Hath  sat  beside  their  gibbet  stone, 
Her  only  care  to  watch  and  weep. 
The  guardian  of  their  dreamless  sleep. 
The  dews  by  nigiu,  the  heats  by  day 
Have  fallen  on  her  defenceless  head, 
Nor  chilled  nor  scorched  her  love  aw'ay. 
Nor  sleep  hath  ciiarmed  her  eyeballs  red 
From  their  long  watch,  nor  hunger  driven 
Her  wasted  body  from  the  rock. 
Love  its  most  holy  power  hath  given 
To  that  lone  heart,  by  sorrow  riven. 
At  frailty,  famine,  death  to  mock— 


POEMS. 


97 


ek— 
eak 


She  hafh  had  strength  to  conquer  all 
That  might  tlie  bravest  breast  ap])al. 

Rizpah  !  thy  task  is  ended  now— 
Behold,  o'er  yc^ider  mountain's  l)ro\v 
The  men  of  Jinhdi  come  to  bear 
Tlie  Ijodies  to  their  father's  tomb — 
Bind  up  thy  long  dishevelled  hair, 
Chase  from  thy  brow  the  cloud  of  gloom  ;- 
With  j)omp  thy  dead  they  shall  inhume, 
Pomp  that  becomes  the  sons  of  Saul, 
Fresh  (lowers  upo;i  the  bier  shall  bloom  ; 
And  'scutcheons  deck  the  funeral  pall. 
Quit  then  thy  solitary  seat 
For  some  serene  and  fair  retreat, 
"Where  Oom  the  dismal  scene  removed, 
Rife  with  the  ftite  of  those  beloved, 
Thy  days  and  thy  subsiding  woe 
On  to  their  close  may  gently  flow. 
And  thou  of  mothers  queen  confessed, 
Shalt  sleep  with  those  thou  lov'dst  the  best. 


98 


POEMS. 


i 


LETHE. 


"  Give  mo,"  the  sorrowing  Roman  cried, 
"  To  drink  of  Lethe's  blessed  tide, 
For  woes  loo  great  for  man  to  bear 

The  Gods  upon  my  heart  liave  thrown, 
And  the  dark  spectre  of  despair 
Falls  uj)on  memory's  eye  alone. 

Could  I  but  taste  that  stream  of  Peace, 
Hope  might  revive  and  sorrow  cease— 
The  past,  a  blajik,  the  future  free 

For  new  pursuits,  and  j.icasures  new, 
Life  may  again  move  cheerily, 

Unblasted  by  the  shades  which  threw 
Ill-omened  colors,  vaguely  cast, 
Far  o'er  the  future  from  tlic  past." 


9 


POEMS. 


99 


The  lip  is  mute  which  woke  the  word — 
Long  stilled  the  heart  which  si^tow  stirred- 
And  Lethe's  stream,  that  could  assuan-e 

The  woes  whicli  curse  the  sons  of  clav. 
Lives  only  in  the  classic  i)afxe — 

The  school-hoy's  dream, — the  poet's  lay. 


But  if  that  fahled  stream  could  elide 
Through  earth,  with  all  that  power  supplied 
With  whicli  mythology  once  thou<dit 
Its  dark  amd  sluinhcrous  waters  fraught, 
Still,  still  how  ^vw  would  hend  the  lip, 
That  dim,  ohlivious  stream  to  sip, — 
Save  those,  who  rushing  on  their  fate. 
Weigh  no  results  and  count  no  cost. 
Nor  pause  to  think,  or  pause  too  late, 

When  thought  recalled  declares  them  lost. 
What  though  along  the  path  of  life 
Lie  many  a  trace  of  bitter  strife. 
What  though  the  whirlwind  and  the  storm 
At  times  across  its  course  have  driven, 
Though  rains  too  fierce  and  suns  too  warm 
Waste  and  sterility  have  given, 


1%   i 


'•fi 


ii        I 


?,  f! 


Iliivo  tliorc  not  risen  some  liolior  joys 
Tliosc  hours  of  gloom  to  coitatcr])oisc  ? 
Were  there  not  lieights  along  the  road 
AVhieh  tioods  have  never  f)verl]osved  ? 
^Vrrc.  there  no  shady  howers  to  meet 
TJie  scorehing  sun's  intensest  lieat  ? 
No  rock,  on  caverned  arches  hascd, 
To  slielter  from  tlie  whirlwind's  haste  ? 

Pause  ere  thine  eager  lij)  is  wet 

With  Letiie's  tide,  and  ponder  o'er 
The  days  and  hours  thou  wouldst  forcret, 
Days,  liours,  to  be  reviewed  no  more— • 
Think  that  within  tlieir  circle  rise 
All  boyhood's  blessed  memories, 
When  tin-uugh  hope's  many-colored  glass 
Thou  look'dst  on  life,  and  saw  it  pass, 
With  hues  of  beauty  round  it  thrown, 
And  gorgeous  colors  not  its  own, 
When  care  was  but  a  jiassing  word. 

Whose  meaning  was  to  thee  unknown, 
When  thou  couldst  carol  like  the  bird, 


I 


.^!*9t4iiliHiJ<Sa«t^niiBW 


rOEMS. 

And  like  tlio  bird  roam  fur  and  free 
By  mossy  rock  or  shady  tree, 
And  deem  tlicir  hcautics  thine  alone— 

When  (rriof,  if  grief  assailed  those  hours, 
Was  but  a  passing  summer  cloud. 
Melting  in  brief  and  fitful  showers, 

With  rays  of  sunshine  glancing  through, 
Too  bright  for  shadows  long  to  shroud, 
Or,  if  ihey  shrouded,  but  to  strew 
Their  dimness  with  the  rainbow's  hue. 


101 


Think,  ere  thou  taste  the  oblivious  tide 

Tliou  wouldst  from  memory's  tablet  blot 
The  blessings  ripening  youth  supplied— 

Blessings  which  life  reneweth  not— 
The  generous  warmth  of  liearts  uncliilled 

By  contact  with  an  icy  world 

The  trusting  confidence  which  filled 
The  breast  of  childhood,  yet  unstilled. 
Though  Doubt  liad  many  a  missile  hurled 
With  bitter  force  and  deadly  aim- 
Hours,  when  young  Friendship's  sacred  flame, 
Too  briglit  to  die,  too  soft  to  harm, 
Conferred  on  life  a  double  charm— 


102 


POEMS. 


Hours,  wlicn  the  thirst  for  lmi)])iiicss 

Came  o'er  the  heart  in  such  excess, 

Tiiat  still  the  renovated  sun 

Saw  the  jjursuit  a^'aiii  hcirun, 

And  though  condeirnied  the  ])ri/c  to  miss, 

Tiio  very  chase  itself  was  bliss — 

lloin-s,  when  the  light  of  "  Love's  young  dream" 

Danced  ceaseless  o'er  life's  onward  stream. 

Changeful  indeed,  hut  ever  hriglit, 

Like  streamers  of  the  northern  light. 

Aye,  and  as  many-liucd  as  tliey, 

let  tilled  with  warmth  unknown  to  tliem, 

The  life  springs  glowed  beneath  its  ray, 
Flashing  and  sparkling  like  the  gem 
Filled  with  the  strong  electric  spark 
Within  the  artist's  chamber  dark. 


Pause,  if  a  wife  have  blessed  thy  side, 
Pure,  loving  and  beloved  by  thee. 

Pause,  ere  thou  drink  that  flattcriiifr  tide 

Pause,  if  a  child  have  climbed  thy  knee— 
Oh,  canst  thou  in  all  after  life 
Recall  that  soft  delicious  strife 


POEMS. 


103 


dream" 
m, 


Of  doubt  and  joy  and  hope,  which  rolled 
.>\vift  tiirough  ihv  heart  whvn  tliuu  didst  hold 
That  hand  resigned  to  dice  alone, 

And  lirst  didst  feel  its  timid  pressure 
Crently  responding  to  tiiinc  own, 

Proof  diat  thou  hadst  obtained  tlie  treasure 
Much  sought,  and  s(jun  thy  heart  to  cheer 
For  long,  long  days  of  doubt  and  fear  ? 


Say,  can  thine  after  years  renew 
That  first  strange  thrilling  joy  which  flew 
O'er  heart  and  brain  when  on  thine  ear 

Came  up  thy  lirst-borirs  jjlaintive  ciy, 
Or  when,  beholding  it,  a  tear 

Produced  by  feelings  new  and  dear, 
A  father's  feelings — dimmed  thine  eye  ? 


Joys  such  as  these,  and  many  more, 
Mortal,  thou  canst,  wlujc'er  thou  art, 

Draw  out  from  Memory's  hidden  store, 
To  soften  and  to  bless  the  heart. 

The  very  retrospect  of  pain. 

Of  sorrow,  danger,  woe  and  care. 


104 


POEMS. 


May  w  Ik  ..   ttdings  s^Uich  contain 
Wore  thttt  1     TK.thiDg,  soft  and  i 
Tliun  sad  or  bitter. 


i|Ji  I 


d  ; 


I 


If  to  losp 
With  pa,  ,,iul  memories  all  the  good 
Bo  Lotlie's  gift-bc  mine  to  clioose 

Tlmt  sweetest  joy  of  solitdde, 
The  memory  of  the  past,  uiih  all 

Or  dark,  or  bright  her  power  ean  bring;- 
Aiid  if  tlie  one  may  thouglit  appal, 
The  other  still  a  light  shall  fling, 
So  glorious  that  the  shades  of  pain 
Sliall  sink  to  rise  no  more  arrain. 


POEMS. 


105 


rUK  PA8SA(;iO  OF  THE  JORDAN. 


The  hosts  of  God,  by  Joshua  led, 

Ap|)roach  thr  Jordan's  fddyiiig  tide, 
And  priests,  with  veiled  and  bended  head, 

Bear  to  its  grassy  side 
The  Ark,  beneath  whose  cherub  wines 
Are  kept  the  {)ure  and  precious  things  ; — 
Behind  the  morn  its  radiance  flincs 

On  bannered  lance  and  buckler  bright, 
And  bra/en  frumi),  whose  music  rinf^s 

To  hail  the  dawnini;  liffht. 


The  flood  before  them  boils  and  leaps 
Along  its  deep  and  rocky  bed, 

But  still  the  moving  column  keeps 
Onward  its  fearless  tread, 


lOG 


,l:i 


POEMS. 

As  tliough  no  foamy  current  flowed 
Between  it  and  the  blest  abode, 
To  which  by  many  a  thorny  road 

And  desert  plain  its  steps  had  i)ast, 
And  which  in  morning's  glory  glowed 

Green,  heautifid  and  vast. 

And  now  the  Levitcs'  sandalled  feet 
Are  moistened  by  the  river's  edge. 
Which  curls  and  breaks  vs  ith  murmur  sweet 

Amid  tjie  bendincr  sedfc 
Yet  pause  they  not ;  with  heart  of  prayer, 
And  faith  su])portcd  strength  ihey  bear 
That  which  the  torrent  shall  not  dare 

Submerge  or  mar  with  angry  tide 

They  know  not  how— but  kjiow  that  there 
God  will  a  way  j)rovide. 


U' 

',       .> 

l> 

lit 

fl 

i  %■ 


Their  faith  hath  triumphed  ;— with  the  sound 
Of  rushing  thunder  backward  fly 

The  aflrighted  billows,  and  the  groujid 
They  moistened  now  is  dry  ; 


POEMS. 


107 


Cleft  in  the  midst  the  waters  stand 
Obedient  Id  their  God's  command, 
Towering  aloft  on  cither  hand 

A  glassy  and  resplendent  heap, 
Where  scenes  which  blessed  the  promised  land 

In  mirrored  beauty  slec]). 

And  fearless  down  the  dark  defdc 

The  countless  hosts  of  Israel  "-o. 
And  loud  from  trump  and  Jiarp  the  while 

The  strains  of  gladness  flow. 
The  depths  that  voices  never  gave, 
But  those  of  warring  wind  and  wave. 
Send  from  their  dark  and  oozy  grave 

The  echoing  tread  of  joyous  throngs, 
And  praise  of  Him  whose  hand  can  save, 

In  loud  triumj)hant  songs. 


And  now  the  farther  shore  thev  £iain. 
And  kneeling  kiss  the  j)romised  spot, 

Which  through  long  years  of  toil  and  puin 
Their  anxious  steps  had  sought. 

Whilst  wi!h  a  wild  and  maddeninir  roar 

Tiie  tides,  disjoined  from  shore  to  shore, 


108 


POEMS. 


m 


m 


Their  long  suspended  waters  pour 
To  fill  the  yawning  gulf  between, 

Closed  is  the  bright  mysterious  door 
By  which  they  entered  in. 

Christian,  behold  the  typic  shade 

Of  that  dim  path  prepared  for  thee — 
Behold  in  Jordan's  tide  displayed 

Death's  ever  flowing  sea. 
Thou  treadest  still  life's  desert  plain 
In  toil  and  sorrow,  care  and  pain ; 
Trials  and  doubts  and  fears  maintain 

With  thee  a  fierce  and  bitter  strife, 
And  ])ut  for  heavenly  aid  would  gain 

The  conquest  o'er  thy  life. 


Yet  soon  that  toilsome  war  shall  cease, 
And  thou  beside  the  Hood  shalt  stand. 

Beyond  whose  waves  are  realms  of  peace, 
A  pure  and  holy  land. 

But  if  thou  still  hast  kept  the  ark 

Of  God  before  thee  as  a  mark. 


POEMS. 

Fear  not  the  troubled  waters  dark, 

Ilowe'cr  they  rage  and  chafe  and  roar, 

On  that  mysterious  voyage  embark, 
And  God  will  guide  thee  o'er. 

Pass  boldly  on  in  foith  and  prayer. 

And  waves  of  doubt  and  floods  of  fear 
Shall  part  and  leave  a  passage  there 

To  changeless  glories  near. 
The  dim  obscurity  shall  fail 
In  Death's  dark  pass  and  shadowy  vale, 
And  thou  with  gladdened  eye  shalt  hail 

Bright  glimpses  of  the  glorious  things 
Which  lie  beyond  and  render  pale 

The  angels'  flashing  wings. 


109 


And  when  thou'st  gained  that  blessed  shore 
Forever  freed  from  sin  and  pain. 

Death's  cheated  waves  shall  hiss  and  roar, 
Mingling  their  streams  again. 

Thence  ever  closed,  that  shadowy  door 

Shall  entrance  give  to  earth  no  more — 
10 


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110 


POEMS. 

But  thou  Shalt  reach  the  golden  floor 
By  Jesus  lit  and  angels  trod, 

Ever  and  ever  to  adore 
Thy  Savior  and  thy  God. 


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POEMS. 


Ill 


THE  KENNEBEC. 


He,  ^\ho  hath  spetl  the  billows  o'er, 
Which  break  on  Maine's  rock-girdled  shore. 
Will  marvel  when  those  rocks  arc  passed. 
Which  seem  like  sturdy  barriers  cast 
Against  the  tempest  and  the  tide. 

How  calm  within,  how  soft  and  fair, 
How  robed  in  glory  and  in  j)ride 
The  smiles  and  hues  of  Nature  arc. 


There,  Kennebec,  like  childhood's  dream. 
Flows  on  thy  full  and  placid  stream, 
Now  clasping  in  its  soft  embrace 

Some  islet  with  its  woody  crown, 
Now  hurrying  on  with  swifter  pace 
Where  rocky  barriers  sloping  down 
Give  narrower  egress  to  thy  tide. 
And  press  thy  waves  on  either  side. 


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112  POEMS. 

And  thou  dost  yield  where  Nature  tlu'ows 
Her  bars  thy  wide  expanse  to  close  ; 
But  where  those  puny  efforts  rise, 

Tlirown  up  by  man  thy  course  to  stay, 
Thy  waters  free  those  bars  despise, 
And  thou  dost  sweep  them  all  away, 
Thou  wilt  not  let  his  arm  restrain 
Thy  march  to  join  the  mighty  main. 

What  lovely  scenes,  fair  river,  rise 

Along  thy  banks,  and  in  thy  stream 
Heflected  each  in  beauty  lies 
Like  paintings  of  a  fairy  dream. 

Through  tangled  dell  and  forest  deep 
Thy  new-born  waves  in  gladness  leap 
Through  groves  once  bright  with  council  fire. 
By  fortress-rock  and  signal  hill. 
Where  Indian  warrior  roamed  at  will. 
And  where,  unworthy  of  their  sire. 

His  wretched  offspring  wander  still, — 

His  vigor  and  his  spirit  fled — 

All  but  the  name  changed,  lost  or  dead. 


POEMS. 

But  thou  art  sweeping  on  the  same 
As  when  that  race  bestowed  thy  name, 
On  by  the  rock  which  memory  keeps 
Of  where  good  llalle  in  silence  sleeps ; 
On,  by  the  vale  and  by  the  hill, 
The  classic  spires  of  Waterville, 

And  many  a  town  of  lesser  name. 

Till,  sweeping  round  the  broken  bar 
Which  man  did  make  and  thou  didst  mar, 

Augusta,  like  some  lovely  dame, 

Sits  by  thy  flood  and  sees  her  grace 
Reflected  in  thy  glassy  face. 


118 


Thence  on  with  calmer,  deeper  swell, 
Thou  lav'st  the  shores  of  Hallowcll  ;— 
Thence,  onward  still,  thy  streams  divide, 
Twin  sisters  of  thy  widening  tide, 
Gardiner  and  Pittston  ;  fair  they  spread, 
'Mid  verdant  slope  and  forest  shade ; 
The  gothic  spire  that  crowns  the  hill, 
In  thought,  before  me  rises  still. 
Such  as  it  rose,  ere  hid  from  view, 
By  curving  bank  and  wooded  height, 
11 


114 


POEMS. 


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When  to  your  shores  we  bade  nfh'eu. 
Homes  of  true  kindness  and  delight. 

Ah  !  swiftly  passed  the  light-winged  hours, 
Amid  your  hosj)itable  bowers, 
And  soon  arrived  the  destined  day, 
To  bear  us  from  those  bowers  away, 
And  soon  upon  her  foamy  path, 
The  steamer  gained  the  sliores  of  Bath, 
Where,  pausing  well-known  forms  to  leave 

And  stranger  voyagers  to  receive, 
Soon  to  thy  tide  she  bndo  adieu 
And  slept  on  ocean's  billows  blue. 

And  oft  in  thought  thy  quiet  scenes 
Come  o'er  my  mind, — O  gentle  river, 

And  through  thy  green  and  waving  screens 
I  see  the  trembling  sunlight  quiver 
Across  thy  face  ;  or,  as  at  eve, 
When  sunset's  beams  a  rose-robe  weave. 
So  deep  the  smile  of  Heaven  impressed 
Along  thy  still  and  mirrored  breast ; 
I've  seen  extend  from  shore  to  shore 
The  ripple  of  the  boatman's  oar. 


POEMS. 


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Still  calm  be  thou,  and  calm  the  days 

Of  those  who  on  thy  "  banks  and  braes," 

Have  found  a  quiet,  fair  retreat ! 

Far  from  thy  vales  bo  War's  red  heat  ! 

Far,  strife  of  arms  and  battle  flood, 

Staining  thy  Paradise  with  blood  ! 

Rather  let  Peace  to  ploughshares  beat 

The  swords  rash  valour  bade  to  shine 

Erewhile  along  thy  northern  line, 

And  teach  those  nobler  arts  wliich  spread, 

Not  mar,  the  gifts  which  God  lias  shed. 


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